S µ м m ε r Ŕ α ϊ η
by anonymous elephant
Summary: This is your average highschool story filled with fluff, clichés, hot guys, lovehate relationships and possibly, if you’re lucky, an underlying moral about being true to yourself... or something like that. talaxoc kaixoc brooklynxoc johnnyxoc and others
1. Violet Bumper Stickers

**Summery: **This is your average high-school story filled with fluff, fast cars, clichés, cliques, whores, heroines, heroin, hot guys, love-hate relationships and possibly, if you're lucky, an underlying moral about being true to yourself or some shit. You already know the plot; it's been used so many times, why bother explaining?

**Warning**: There's probably going to be bad language. I'm sorry. I find it impossible to keep it clean. My friends and I swear heaps when we talk so a conversation doesn't look normal to me unless there are naughty words involved. I write it as I live it.

There will also be horribly clichéd moments. If that's not what you're looking for leave now and never return. God knows why you clicked on this link in the first place because what else would you expect in a high-school story?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but the stuff that is my own.

* * *

S µ м m ε ® Ŕ α ϊ η

* * *

Nobody's family can hang out the sign: "Nothing the matter here." 

_Chinese Proverb_

* * *

Johnny seemed to spend his life in a perpetually grounded state. This didn't stop him from doing what he did best i.e. partying/drinking/smoking pot, but it did make it slightly more difficult. For instance, he was supposed to be seeing a movie in town with Rei and Kai in like, fifteen minutes, but his parents had grounded him for the entire summer simply because he had failed last year and the school was making him repeat. So now he was stuck with the problem of sneaking out every time he wanted to hang with his mates. 

He had managed to make it as far as the door without his mum noticing, but as he was turning the doorhandle she came bustling in from the laundry with a large basket of clothes in her arms. Yanking his hand away from the door he tried to look innocent, which would've failed if his mother had actually looked at him, but she was too busy and merely shoved the basket into his empty hands and gave him a preoccupied smile saying, "Put these away in your room Johnny, they're all clean. And after that I need you to help me hang the new curtains in the living room, it's a two-person job. Quickly now."

Groaning in frustration the redhead desperately tried to think of an excuse not to help, but his mother was already wandering away tidying things as she went. Her whole life revolved around the pristine townhouse and she was always cleaning or redecorating.

Johnny moodily climbed the stairs to his room, but someone was sitting on the last step. It was his younger sister Misha. The two looked fairly similar, red hair (although hers was curly) with grey-blue eyes and charming but cheeky smiles. It was only when the girl stood up that you could see the real difference. Even standing two steps above him she barely reached his nose.

The two Scottish children eyed each other for a moment. Johnny loved his sister in an I'll-never-show-it-but-if-you-try-and-touch-her-I-will-rip-your-guts-out-and-drown-you-in-the-nearest-bathtub-then-bring-you-back-to-life-and-do-it-again kind of way. Basically he thought she was a little weird, but hey, she was family. Raising an eyebrow he asked gruffly, "What do you want?"

A grin lit up Misha's face and all at once Johnny felt worried. Anything that made his sister smile like that usually ended up being bad news for him. Giving a small laugh at her brother's expression Misha quickly explained, "Don't worry! This isn't about what I want; it's about what you want!"

Johnny eyed her suspiciously and asked, "And what do I want?"

Misha laughed again and said, "You want to go to the cinema with Rei and Kai, but you can't because you're grounded."

His brow furrowed, "How do you know that?"

"A good Misha never reveals her secrets," scolded the small girl, then continued, "Anyway, doesn't matter because I'm obviously right and I can get you there if you're willing to pay."

"Oh yeah? Pay for what?"

"My ticket you idiot! What else? And I'm choosing the movie as well. Plus you gotta get snacks, because well… because you can't watch a movie without snacks," she replied in a matter-of-fact fashion.

"No deal," said Johnny shortly, and pushed past her and kept walking towards his room.

"But Johnny!" came the protests from behind him as Misha followed.

Johnny reached his room and whirled around to face her, "No buts. I'd rather not go at all than take you with me."

Misha's face darkened and she snapped, "Really feeling the love here."

"Uhuh? Is that so? Well I'd really love for you to fuck off," and he slammed the door shut in her face.

Misha growled at the wooden door as if it was the source of all her problems. Damnit! She really wanted to see Happy Feet, but she was totally broke and her parent's wouldn't pay her allowance early. They claimed it was to teach her about economical responsibility or some shit. Like she cared. She just wanted to see Happy Feet. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. So when the going gets tough, the smart ones use blackmail.

"I know about the garage roof," she said just loud enough that Johnny would hear in his room.

A few seconds later the door swung open revealing a fuming Johnny. Bingo.

"How the hell do you… you wouldn't dare… ah, fuck it," he muttered and settled for glaring at her.

Misha smiled sweetly, knowing that she had won this round and asked, "Shall we go?"

Johnny grabbed his wallet and jacket and stormed past her, stopping only for a second to demand, "You better have a damn good excuse to get me outta here. And if I take you then not a word to mum or dad about it – ever."

"Scouts honour," mocked Misha, giving him a fake salute.

Johnny growled – a mannerism that was common among the McGregor children – and stalked off down the stairs.

Their mother materialised behind them just as they were walking out the door.

"Johnny McGregor! Stop right there - you're grounded! And you're supposed to be helping me hang the curtains," she began but was interrupted by Misha.

"Sorry mum, I asked if he'd take me to the library so I can study with Blaire. I thought maybe he could help us get some extra preparation done before the beginning of the school year considering he's already done it once. I hope that's alright."

Johnny had to admit it was a fairly good excuse. Blaire was always studying, she did way too much of it in his opinion, but whatever, his mother knew that so she'd have no reason to doubt it. Other than the fact that he would never agree to such a proposition, but what did his parent's know about him?

Mrs McGregor looked slightly confused and stammered, "Well… well I guess that's alright…"

Misha didn't let her finish the sentence before she was pushing Johnny out the door yelling, "Thanks mum! We're taking the car!"

Misha grinned as she sat in the passenger seat on the short drive into town listening to Sum 41. That had been way too easy! Now she got to see Happy Feet! She wasn't to sure what Johnny would think of her choice of film, but it didn't really matter.

As if reading her thoughts the male beside her asked inquisitively, "What do you want to see then?"

Misha was prepared for this and replied, "Not a chance Johnny boy. You'll have to wait until we buy the tickets to find out; you ain't getting out of this one."

Misha grinned inwardly as her brother frowned. She loved him, but she always reckoned he was a bit of an idiot because let his emotions run things rather than thinking things through logically. It was a small town and only four films were showing at the moment: The Queen, Blood Diamond, Charlotte's Web and Happy Feet. No one in their right mind would want to see a film about the Queen of England, and she hated Dakota Fanning and Leonardo DiCaprio so that only left one choice. But Johnny wouldn't figure that out, he'd be too busy being annoyed at her for not telling him straight off.

Johnny was a year older than her, but he was going to be in the same grade this year because he had failed and was being held back. Misha reckoned the reason was a mixture between the fact that he spent all his time partying/drinking/smoking pot and all the brain cells he must've lost in the process of doing so. Yep, she loved him – but he was an idiot. What other kind of person grew marijuana on the garage roof?

* * *

Green eyes surveyed the room indifferently. It was small, plain and had an unlived air to it. Bed, wardrobe, mirror, desk. No posters, no photos, no clothes on the floor, no signs of inhabitation. And that was just fine with her, thought the owner of the green eyes as she slung her travel worn duffel bag to the ground. It wasn't like any of the other places she had lived had ever felt 'homely' and she didn't intend to make this 'home' any different. 

She flopped down on the bed and stared around. Someone had put a vase of yellow flowers on the desk to try and cheer things up. Why the fuck would they bother doing that? They'd probably be dead in three days and she'd just have to chuck them out anyway. Flowers were temporary, they were a testimony to her life – everything was temporary.

Rolling over so she wouldn't have to face the disgustingly cheerful daisies, she stared at the blank wall instead. It was painted plain beige and was as boring as having English last on a Friday afternoon. The whole effing room was boring.

She contemplated her situation. She was participating in a homestay with the Kingstons. With her parents' work involving a lot of moving around (about every six months or so) her education had been very scratchy and a lot of the time she didn't even attend school. Now with her final two years coming up she was getting her IB diploma and she needed to be in one place long enough to complete all the work. So her parents had shipped her off to this godforsaken place and that was that, there was nothing she could do about it.

Feeling suddenly restless she got up off the bed and opened her bag. There wasn't much: some clothes, a camera and a pile of books. Her clothes, which consisted solely of jeans and a few tops and jackets, she hung up in her wardrobe. The camera she placed in the draw of the desk and the books she stacked neatly at the bottom of the wardrobe.

She paused briefly then to check her appearance in the full-length mirror, she was a bit of a tomboy but she was also just as vain, in her own manner, as any other girl. She adjusted the green bandana that sat neatly on her wavy, brown hair. She grimaced when she saw the travel creases on her black top and half-heartedly tugged down on her shirt in an attempt to get rid of them. It didn't work but she didn't really care; wasn't like she was trying to impress anyone. Her jeans were fine and her tattered runners never left her, despite the fact they were nearly falling apart. On her hands she had her trademark fingerless gloves. They were black leather and she had had them so long that they were worn thin and soft and fitted snugly.

She grabbed some cash from her bag and stuffed it in her pockets. Her parents weren't that rich and had spent most of their money sending her here. She had just enough to buy stuff like her school uniform and her textbooks and then she was going to have to find a job.

Taking one last look around her characterless room she opened the door and stepped out into the silent hallway.

The Kingston's house was huge. It was a double story building, but there were extra rooms in the attic and basement as well. Her room was in the attic and had originally been a storage room, but they had cleaned it out for her. There were three other rooms up there. One was a bathroom, and the other two were bedrooms which belonged to the eldest son Darien, who went to college, and the second eldest Brooklyn, who was in her year at school.

Descending the staircase she mentally counted the people who inhabited the second floor: Rosa, the youngest child and only girl, and Bobby and Davy the twin boys who were twelve if she remembered correctly. Again there were four rooms – a bathroom and three bedrooms (one for each child) – and again it was silent. The twins were at their swimming lessons and Rosa had tagged along.

She had quickly learned that the family led busy lives as she had only just walked in the door when Monique (the mother) had appeared dragging along two protesting identical boys and a darling, angel-faced girl. Monique had apologised profusely for having to leave just as she arrived and then was out the door before the brunette could reply. Charles (the father, who had collected her from the airport) had carried her bag inside, given her a quick verbal description of the layout of the house and then had also apologised and left for a business meeting telling her that if she needed anything she should just ask Brooklyn or Darien.

Realising that Charles hadn't actually told her where her room was she had sought out one of the siblings and found the eldest just about to leave on a date with his girlfriend. Darien had a charming smile and acted like a real gentleman, taking her bag and carrying it upstairs for her. He had shown her the bathroom and was about to give her a tour of the rest of the house when his girlfriend had appeared looking not so impressed about being left to wait. Flashing a quick smile he had apologised and left with his girlfriend, saying she'd probably find Brooklyn in the basement.

She descended to the ground floor, where the kitchen, lounge room, master bedroom and dining room were situated and then went down the final flight of stairs and entered the basement. This was like the kids' zone. There was a workout room for the older guys, a room filled with beanbags, a computer and toys for the younger kids to play their games and the final room had a massive widescreen TV, Xbox and three couches arranged in a horseshoe for generally chilling and watching movies and stuff. It was in this room that the brunette discovered the final member of the Kingston family.

Surprise, surprise Brooklyn also had ginger hair. He was lounging on one of the couches and clutched in his hand was a wireless Xbox controller which his fingers were skilfully manipulating. Out of the surround sound system came the loud sound of gunfire and people dying. His startlingly blue eyes flicked from the screen to her face and then back to the screen again and he muttered her name, "Keira."

Realising that was as much acknowledgement as she could expect the brunette rolled her eyes and said shortly, "I'm going out."

The boy didn't even look at her, merely saying, "You can't."

Raising an eyebrow she enquired, "Why not?"

Still his eyes remained focused on the screen as he replied, "You're not allowed to go unless one of us comes with you, 'rents don't want you getting lost."

Getting impatient she snapped, "I not gonna bloody well get lost."

When she got pissed her voice took on a distinctly British lilt, although at most other times it maintained a soft South African sound. That combined with her swearing startled him and his eyes shot to her face again in surprise. Suddenly the sound of someone screaming echoed around the room and he yelled, "Shit!" and his focus was back on the screen. Thumbs moving furiously he muttered, "You don't know where anything is though."

"That's the whole point," she said and turned to leave.

"Wait!" he said, still playing his game, "You can't go by yourself."

She watched a few seconds to see if he was going to do anything, but he just stared at the screen. Desperate to just go she pointed out, "If it bothers you so much then come with me already."

"Can't," was the gruff response.

She sighed mentally – boys and their toys. She started to walk out the door saying, "Then I'm going alone,"

"No you're not," he said, gaze flickering in between her and the game.

"Rules were meant to be broken Brooklyn, learn to live a little," she called over her shoulder and climbed the stairs.

"Fuck," he swore and paused the game, jumping up from the couch he followed where she had gone yelling, controller still in hand, "I don't give a fuck about the rules, but it'll be my arse that gets in trouble if you get lost. Christ, do you even know how to take the bus into town?"

There was silence for a moment and Keira stared down at him in disbelief from the top of the stairs. Finally she replied, "I have learned to live in twenty-seven different countries. I have taught myself to speak five languages fluently. I have eaten every kind of food imaginable, from haggis to hangi. I think I can handle your public transport system. How extraordinary can it be? You get on the bus, you get off the bus. Later."

Brooklyn waited at the bottom of the stairs until he heard the front door slam shut. Realising she was serious he quickly ran to the front door to follow her but remembered he was still holding the controller. He swore and ran back down to the basement, saved his game, chucked the controller on the couch and switched off the Xbox.

Sprinting back up the stairs, he grabbed a jacket off the coat rack because it was a chilly day, stuffed his keys and phone in his pocket and ran out the door. He surveyed the street briefly and saw the brunette standing off in the distance by the bus stop. He saw the bus coming up his street and heading towards her. Cursing his luck he started racing towards the stop, trying to beat the bus there.

He was halfway when the bus overtook him and drew to a halt next to the girl. She threw him a brief glance then got on the bus. A few moments later it pulled away, just as he reached the stop. Swearing loudly he threw a punch at the metal signpost. He ignored the pain and ran a hand through his hair. His mum was going to kill him if she found out that he had lost their houseguest within the first half hour of her stay.

Glaring at the timetable he cursed when he saw that the next bus wasn't coming for twenty minutes. Darien had taken the third car when he went on his date so he had no other way of getting into town.

Slumping down on the wooden bench he stared sullenly at the road. Stupid girl! He didn't even know why his parents had offered to host her anyway. They didn't have enough time for their own family without taking on someone else's. Apparently Keira's parents worked in random places and she needed to finish school or something. He didn't really give a damn, all he knew was that now he was stuck babysitting her. Sure it was a big family, but he knew he would end up doing it all. His parents worked long hours, Darien would be at college most of the time and Rosa, Davy and Bobby were still young enough to need a babysitter themselves. Yep, he would get the joy of looking after her. Lucky him.

Pulling out his phone he flipped it open and dialled Tala's number. Tala was one of his mates and if he was off work he might have time to drive Brooklyn into town. He waited patiently and after three rings Tala picked up and greeted, "Tala speaking."

"Hey man, it's Brooklyn. Look, I need a favour…"

* * *

Tala locked the door to his small, three-room apartment (kitchen, bedroom, bathroom) and shoved the key in the pocket of his leather jacket. He strode down the decrepit hallway with the fluorescent lights flickering above giving his face as eerie look. The harsh light accented the smooth lines of his face, the high cheekbones and straight nose. He pushed through the fire doors and jogged down the concrete stairs to the landing. 

As he stepped out into the chilly air a breeze blow his red bangs into his ice-blue eyes. He walked purposefully towards the garage where his black and crimson motorbike stood waiting for him. He swung a leg over the bike and put on his helmet. Revving the engine he shot off down the alleyway, heading for Brooklyn's place.

He and Brooklyn lived about ten minutes drive apart. Bakuten wasn't a huge place but it was large enough to have distinct sections. In the centre of town was the mall, cinema, sports ground etc. To the north lay the wealthy, well-to-do area where the Kingston's house was situated. To the east and west lay middleclass families and to the south, where Tala's apartment could be found, was the dodgy end of town.

Tala lived by himself as his parents were long gone. He was only seventeen so theoretically he should still have a guardian, but there were just too many orphan kids out there for the government to keep tabs on. If the school ever needed to speak to Mr or Mrs Ivanov than they would unfortunately be 'out of town' on work. As for school fees and rent money, he worked two jobs and found ways to keep a little extra cash flowing in on the side. Maybe his methods weren't exactly legal, but not much about him was. Tala was a street kid, the law meant nothing to him, it was all about survival.

Taking a sharp left he sped down Brooklyn's street and skidded to a halt in front of his friend's front gate. The ginger haired boy flashed him a smile and caught the spare helmet that Tala chucked to him.

He slid on behind the redhead and said, "She took the bus into town, I dunno where she'll be exactly. I reckon if we start at the mall we'll find her soon enough."

Tala nodded in reply and set off again, driving slightly slower now that he had a passenger. Making a quick turn at the end of the street they headed into town

* * *

Misha bounded back outside proudly baring five tickets to the 4pm screening of Happy Feet, two large boxes of popcorn, a large Coke and a packet of Skittles. The good-natured Rei followed calmly behind her with four more drinks, all the while calling for her to slow down before she lost all the popcorn. As soon as she reached the steps where her brother and his mate Kaiwere sitting Johnny leapt up and snatched the tickets from her hand. 

"Happy Feet?" he asked quizzically.

Misha just nodded happily and started hopping from foot to foot in excitement, unable to talk as her mouth was already full. Kai stood up and deftly took the boxes from her to stop anymore food being wasted on the floor. He was about to take the skittles as well but Misha glared up at him, swallowed her mouthful and growled, "Bugger off, they're mine."

He raised an eyebrow at her and sat back down indifferently, placing the popcorn next to him and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He offered them to Johnny who took one and pulled out a lighter. Misha watched uneasily as the two inhaled and let out the smoke in small clouds. She hated it when they smoked, didn't they understand what it could do to you? She hated how her brother was so obsessed with being cool and doing all that shit that went along with keeping up that kind of profile. And Kai had been around as long as she could remember. He was always there to talk to and he would listen to her, maybe not so much anymore, but it still hurt that he did all that stuff as well. She wrinkled her nose and turned away as the smell reached her.

At that moment their last companion arrived. She hadn't been expecting this when they had left the house, and she wondered if she'd have acted differently knowing said person was coming.

Mariah Wong was Rei's girlfriend and Misha wasn't quite sure what she thought of the girl. Mariah had the body and curves of a model and could be pretty high maintenance, but at the same time Rei obviously liked her a lot and she had also had the nerve to dye her hair pink, which Misha reckoned was pretty cool – even if she didn't really like that particular colour.

Mariah gave Rei a quick kiss on the check and asked, "Hey guys! How are y'all going?"

There was a grumbled response from the guys, although Rei did lean in and whisper something in her ear that made Mariah giggle and blush.

"Quiet Rei! Don't be naughty. So anyway, I went shopping this morning and bought the most gorgeous skirt ever. You'll just love it sweetie, I can't wait to show you!"

Misha rolled her eyes remembering the other reason she didn't like hanging out around Mariah, but Rei just smiled lovingly at his girlfriend, blatant adoration obvious on his face. Still smoking, Kai and Johnny had started their own conversation, but Mariah ignored them and asked loudly, "So, what film are we seeing?"

"Happy Feet," muttered Johnny looking over, "Whatever the hell that is."

"Oh! I really wanted to see that film! It looks totally adorable!" she squealed gleefully, then turned to Misha, "You're choice darling?"

Misha grimaced at the word 'darling' but paused, hand full of skittles and halfway to her open mouth, so she could nod her head in the affirmative. She only did that much because she understood that it was Mariah's attempt at being friendly and she should probably reciprocate. Then deciding she had had enough of being a saint for today she stuffed the sweets in her mouth and wandered off towards the entrance of the cinema, bored already of the mindless chatter. She wished Blaire or Nessa had picked up their cells when she had tried to reach them, now she was defenceless against Mariah's endless girl talk for the rest of the afternoon. Hopefully the she knew how to shut up during a film or else Misha wasn't sure she'd survive.

* * *

Nessa was the kind of person who unconsciously makes you stop and stare and then accidentally bowls you over while you're still recovering you're senses. She was full of life and energy and it shined off her like a beacon of charisma – a total people person. She was tall, slim and tanned with gorgeous sapphire eyes and long, blonde hair. At the moment she had the tips dyed a baby blue colour. 

Blaire had patiently followed her friend around the town for three hours this afternoon. She and Nessa were complete opposites. People managed to overlook the petite girl. Her only striking feature was her orange hair with black streaks through it. Her eyes green eyes were hidden behind black, rectangular frames and unlike the blonde she loved solitude and spending time reading her books. When she spoke, it was rarely with the same energy unless she was among close friends.

Right now was the exception. Her feet were sore, her head was aching and she had finally had enough. Plus she was absolutely convinced that they wouldn't be able to find the perfect pair of black, knee-high boots that Nessa was so desperate for. This had to stop, she needed a break.

"Nessa!" she called out to her friend who was already entering the next shop. The blonde turned and looked at her and Blaire continued, "We're not going to find them you know."

Nessa walked over, "Aw, don't be so pessimistic B-babe; we've still got time before the shops close."

Blaire pushed her glasses up and nose and sighed, "Ness, we've been through every shop in Central… twice."

Nessa frowned, "Yeah, maybe, but I swear we haven't been in this one," and she emphasised her point by waving enthusiastically towards the shop she had just been about to enter.

Blair took it in slowly, acknowledging that indeed, they had not been into this store yet. However, there was a very good reason.

"Ness?"

"Yeah?"

"They don't sell shoes there."

"Oh… oh well! That top looks pretty funky. I vote we look anyway."

Blaire sighed as her friend rushed into the shop to search for something she had seen in the window. Figuring that it wouldn't hurt if she waited outside she sat down on the step. Searching through her bag she pulled out her iPod and scrolled down until she found Teddy Geiger.

She sat quietly for a few moments, staring at the pavement and listening contentedly when suddenly someone's shadow fell across her face. Slowly looking up she started with the battered sneakers, moved onto old jeans and a black t-shirt and finished with a blank face with emerald eyes, brown hair and a bandana.

She pulled out her headphones and quietly, but politely addressed the teenage girl, "Can I help you."

"Do you know anywhere nearby where I can buy stuff for school?"

Blaire pondered this for a moment, and murmured, "Hmm… yeah, I think know the place you need, but I can't for the life of me remember what it's called."

A bright, cheery voice beside her spoke up, "Yeah, I know the one you mean. We'll show you the way if you want. I'm Nessa by the way."

Blaire looked around in surprise, wondering when the blonde had appeared. Nessa just smiled and explained, "They didn't have my size," before returning her attention to the brunette.

Blaire shrugged her shoulders and also looked at the newcomer. Holding out a hand she said timidly, "Umm… hi… I'm Blaire."

The brunette eyed her for a moment before taking the hand in her own and giving it a firm but brief shake.

"Keira."

"Okay. Now that we know who everybody is, shall we go?" questioned Nessa, and without waiting she set off down the street, after a minute calling over her shoulder, "This way!"

"Well I would've thought that much was obvious," commented Blaire lightly and took off after her friend.

Keira stared at the odd pair for a moment, that had been easier than she had expected, and then also followed. She had been friends with much stranger people in her time; a few more oddballs couldn't hurt.

* * *

It took Tala and Brooklyn forty five minutes to locate the missing girl. 

In the end, just as they had nearly given up and were lounging around by the town fountain taking a break, they had heard a conversation that led them to her.

"So you're staying with the Kingstons. I know most of them; they've all gone to Bakuten Public School at some point."

"Nearly everybody goes to Bakuten Public School, unless their parents can afford for them to go and board in one of the surrounding towns," added a second voice.

"So you end up knowing just about everyone. I mean, not personally, 'cause it's a big school, but if you screw up then everyone knows. It kinda sucks, but at the same time it can be handy," said the first.

"Change of topic, tell us how you are finding it? Living with the Kingstons I mean."

A new voice replied bluntly, "I only just arrived at lunch, but I feel like I've stepped into a Harry Potter book. There all redheads; it's like living with the bloody Weasley family."

There was the sound of female laughter, and the two guys got up and started to circumnavigate the fountain, Brooklyn walking with slightly more tension than Tala.

Rounding on the group he came face to face with three startled females, surrounded by a pile of shopping bags. Keira was the first to recover and said impassively, "Well, imagine meeting you here."

"We're going back. Now," replied Brooklyn through his teeth – the Harry Potter reference had gotten to him.

The brunette rolled her eyes and snapped, "Piss off Brooklyn. I told you I'm fine. Stop being a bloody mother hen."

Brooklyn was seething with anger at the nerve of this girl and spat out, "You're coming with us. Right. Now."

The two continued bickering, oblivious to the outside world. Nessa frowned and for a moment it looked like she was going to step in, but a quick shake of the head from Blaire stopped her. Blaire tended to have a good sense of whether or not things were safe. So instead she looked up at the redhead watching the fight amusedly. She racked through her head trying to come up with a name.

Ivanov, Tala Ivanov. That was it. School hottie and ice prince. He had never been in many of her classes, but you didn't need to be genius to figure out where the reputation came from. His fine features and lean body were enough to steal any girl's heart. The fact that he had a mysterious past, dark attitude and rode a motorbike were also added drool factors.

Beaming at him she tried to start a conversation…

"Hi! You must be Tala. I'm Nessa; I think we had Maths together last semester."

…and failed miserably. Silence. He didn't even glance at her. Granted, it wasn't the most original of conversation starters, but usually her bubbly personality pulled through for her and the other person would at least make an effort to talk to her. Apparently not this time though.

No point in pressing the situation. Not particularly disappointed she turned her attention back to the fight. He probably didn't talk much because he couldn't hold a conversation, so no loss on her side.

Brooklyn was in the middle of a rant about his wasted afternoon, "…We just spent forty five minutes wandering around searching for you and you have the bloody nerve to be sitting here having a good old chat to some randoms like nothing is wrong. I bloody well had to get Tala to give me a lift in on his bike, so I hope you realise you wasted his fucking time as well."

"Don't forget to breathe Brookie," quipped Keira when he paused for a moment.

Brooklyn clenched his fist and snarled, "We are leaving now. Tala – take us home."

Keira sighed, "How genius? Unless you plan on fitting three and all my school stuff on his motorbike."

Brooklyn ground his jaw even harder. Why was she so fucking calm? How did she get under his skin so easily? But she was right. Forcing himself to calm down he turned to Tala and said, "Look, thanks for the ride. We'll get the bus home so you can go if you want."

Tala shrugged unconcernedly, blue eyes half-lidded, "Whatever. Catch you later man."

"Yeah, later," replied Brooklyn distantly, to busy glaring at Keira to take much more notice.

Throwing his jacket over his shoulder, Tala sauntered down the street towards the place he had parked his bike.

Keira stared defiantly back into Brooklyn's blue eyes until finally he turned away and scowled, "We better go. We'll miss the bus if we don't hurry, and I'm not waiting around for another half hour until the next one arrives."

Heatedly he headed for the nearest bus stop. Quick footsteps followed him as Keira caught up, ignoring the farewells from her shopping buddies. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he whirled round to face her.

Smiling innocently she dumped her bags in his empty arms and strolled on.

"What the fuck?" he yelled after her.

She turned to smile at him, but continued walking slowly backwards saying, "Well since you've been a bastard all afternoon I figured you could make it up and be a gentleman and carry my bags for me. Oh look. There's the bus," and she turned back again, picking up her pace so she wouldn't miss her ride her.

Just about ready to pull his hair out, Brooklyn sprinted after her, this time reaching her before the bus left. Once they were aboard, he made sure to sit as far away from her as humanely possible and all the way home muttered complaints and curses under his breath.

* * *

The weary teen knew better than to resist. It was simpler to submit to the harsh blows and cold words and for it to end quickly than to fight back and cause it to escalate into a more painful, drawn-out ordeal. Although a sixty-five year old man, his grandfather still had the strength of an ox and the swiftness of a snake. When the expensive, antique belt buckle bit agonizingly into his skin, the boy did not to let any sound escape his lips. It was the one victory he could gain over his guardian. Silent defiance: he would remain strong, he was not yet beaten. 

His grandfather was in a particularly foul mood that night, probably because he had turned up late after the movie. The teen gritted his teeth as the sharp metal came down hard across his back for the eighth time. The hot, fiery pain lanced down his spine and through every nerve in his body, and still he remained silent. The next blow caught him unexpectedly on the back of his knee joint and sent him crashing to the ground. He was morbidly curious about this action. Normally his grandfather was careful to inflict wounds in places where they would not be visible. He must be really enraged to make such a mistake. In the brief respite he gained whilst getting back on his feet the teen made a mental note to only take track pants to gym class for the first week of school. Wearing the sports shorts would provoke questions he didn't want or even know how to answer.

Another blow caught him across the shoulder and he couldn't stop the hand that instinctively flew to protect the broken skin.

A sick look of malicious victory gleamed in his grandfather's eyes. He spoke scathingly to his heir, "See, you are weak. You let an old man beat you to submission, you won't fight back. You will never be worthy. Look how you cower over your wounds like a dog. You are a disgrace to our bloodline. I should do away with you now and save us the shame."

What drove his grandfather's wrath would forever remain a mystery, but seventeen years of living with the bastard had opened at least a few of the doors to his mind. There was no way of pleasing his grandfather. In some sick way it was as if he wanted his grandson to fail, wanted him to be weak. If he resisted then the old man would just beat him harder, right to the point of unconsciousness if necessary, and all the while he would be cursing, insulting and threatening his heir.

It usually finished there though. The threats that he would, "do away with" or "finish off" his grandson were where it ended. At that point he would wipe the blood off the silver buckle and return the belt to around his waist. Today was no different. The teenager stood silently, motionlessly. He listened to the retreating footsteps and the creak of the ancient floorboards. His grandfather had been known to swing around land a vicious blow if he heard his grandson move before he left the room.

He released the air from his body in one silent sigh as the door crashed shut. He pulled his hand away from the shoulder and inspected the blood, still wet on his fingers. Even in the dim light of the immense library the dark substance stood out like paint on his pale skin.

He had his reasons for staying with the bastard. Reasons that he endured the random attacks, mental and physical. He listed them to himself as he limped out of the nearest door, trying to ignore the screaming pain from his right leg every time he bent his knee. He went through all the pros of remaining in this hell as shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Yes, he wouldn't leave, not yet at least, thought the young teen as he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the torrent of boiling water, so hot that within seconds the mirrors were steamy. He ignored the pain as the water hit his wounds and washed away the blood, he ignored the pain because seventeen years had taught him how to ignore it. He smiled grimly when he thought of the advantages of staying just a few more years.

Kai Hiwitari wouldn't bail just yet, he wasn't a quitter. He had made it this far and he would stick with it until the end. Besides, what didn't kill you made you stronger, and it hadn't killed him… yet.

* * *

We all grew up in spite of our parents. I trust our children will do likewise. 

_Sandy Farquhar_**

* * *

A/N: The whole marijuana on the garage roof – don't laugh. It can be done! The first house I lived in originally belonged to some uni students and… well you get the picture. Perfect conditions for the damn stuff apparently. **

Input needed people! You reckon this could be heading somewhere? I dunno whether I should bother to continue it.

Meanwhile, if you're a reader of **Incoming Fire** don't worry – I will finish it! I just need to twist things back the way I want them because the plot's getting out of hand and not heading in the right direction. When I figure things out I will update again.

The anonymous elephant.


	2. Transparent Paper Chains

**A/N: **Heya! Did anyone get a reply to their review? I answered all of them, but I don't know if the system's working. If not, next time I'll post my replies with the chapter. I know you're not supposed to do that, but it's their fault if their system's screwed.

Yes, I'm in a bad mood.

I'm not happy with this chapter. I re-wrote it four times but it's still shitty, it doesn't really do anything for the story, it just is. But in the end I decided to just put it up anyway.

Sorry guys. I'm really grateful for all your reviews. I didn't think so many people would be interested. It just makes me feel like this chapter isn't really good enough after all the kind things you lot said.

**TK** – I took your advice and read it through word for word! I've also sat down and done a major brainstorm! Now I've got all these ideas and I can't wait to get these introductory chapters out of the way so I can get to the good stuff lol.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but the stuff that is my own.

* * *

S µ м m ε ® Ŕ α ϊ η

* * *

Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind 

_- Dr Seuss_

* * *

"Johnny, get your fat arse out of the bathroom! It's not like staying in there any longer is actually going to help your ugly mug," yelled a short, bristling redhead as she glowered at the steam seeping out from under the door. 

A few seconds later it swung open and a slightly damp, smirking Johnny sauntered out still towelling his hair dry. Ignoring her death glare he shrugged and retorted, "Can't hurry perfection."

Rolling her blue-grey eyes she said incredulously, "I just don't get how a guy can spend three-quarters of an hour in a bathroom! What the hell do you do in there?" Silence filled the corridor for a moment as possibilities floated through her mind. Crinkling up her nose she quickly added, "And on second thoughts I don't want to know."

Johnny grinned at her as she started to push past him into the bathroom, "Maybe if you took the time you would look half decent. And besides, if you actually are related to me, which I often doubt, how bad could it be?"

Suddenly their father strode down the hallway, fully dressed and ready to work. It took him an hour and a half to get to work each morning so he had to leave early. He paused to greet them and plant a kiss on his daughter's head, "Morning kids. Have a great day."

"Morning dad," she replied cheerily, watching him walk off then returning to her conversation with Johnny, "I swear, a guy as obsessed with his looks as you are has gotta be gay, there's no other explanation. Don't worry brother dear, I'll be there for you when you decide to come out of the closet," she laughed, giving him a syrupy smile.

Her father's voice echoed up the stairs, "I heard that Misha, stop teasing your brother! It's too early!"

"Sure dad," she yelled back, her eyes not leaving Johnny's for a second. They both waited until they heard the front door slam signalling their father had left before Johnny spoke up, "Hey, I can't help it if I'm so good looking that people form both sides of the team bow down at my feet, even if I don't swing that way. You're just jealous that I've got twenty dates to any single offer you've had."

"Ouch! Low blow!"

"Truth hurts don't it?" he smirked.

Still smiling sweetly she answered back, "Maybe so, but the only reason is 'cause I got something called standards, meaning I won't go out with just anything that can walk on its hind legs."

"And you know the reason why your standards will never do you any good? Because you've set them so high that you couldn't reach them even on your tiptoes, shrimp."

Misha's cheeks turned nearly as red as her hair, she hated it when people insulted her height; it was a bit of a sore point. She was just trying to come up with something really awful to say when their mother voice floated up from the front door, "Breakfast's on the table kids, hurry up or it'll go cold! I've got to go to a flower arranging meeting; love you!"

"Bye mum," they chorused just before the door slammed shut.

"You heard the lady, hurry up shrimp," Johnny smirked before heading off to find a clean shirt to slip on leaving Misha still tyring to formulate a response that was evil enough.

Deciding she would have time to think up something in double maths that morning, she entered the bathroom and almost slipped on the wet tiles.

"Fuck!" she swore, recovering her balance, and then sighed taking in the sight before her.

Johnny always left a mess; must be a teenage guy thing. There was a pile of dirty, wet towels in one corner and his old pyjamas in another, the shower was still dripping and there was a variety of tubes filled with toothpaste and shampoo and the like all scattered round the sink.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, that was supposed to stop people from spending too long in the shower (not like it worked) she swore again. No time for her to wash her hair, it took forever to do. Frowning dejectedly into the mirror she tried to drag a brush through her tangled, red curls. They caused her so much grief that she was sure one day she'd just loose it and chop them all off. They sat just below her shoulders at the moment and some of her friends took immense pleasure in pulling them down and watching them spring back up again. It didn't hurt her; it just made her want to hurt someone else.

Once she'd finished pulling them back into a ponytail (which looked more like a bun because of the way they frizzed out) she glanced at the clock again. 7:55am. School started at 8:30. Why was the first day of school always like this?

Swearing yet again she ran out of the bathroom, almost slipping again and raced into her room. She pulled on her shoes, grabbed her bag and dashed to the staircase at the same time tying her laces.

She reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Johnny open the door to let in Kai, a mate of his. They exchanged their normal morning greeting which, as far as she could deduce, was just a few unintelligible grunts.

Vaulting down the steps, she offered Kai a quick smile before sliding into the kitchen to grab her breakfast.

"Hurry up shrimp or else you're not getting a lift," shouted her brother.

Muttering insults under her breath, she jammed a piece of cold toast into her mouth, grimacing at how the crumbs seemed to stick in her throat when she tried to swallow. Gulping down some orange juice, she ran back out of the kitchen.

Johnny was leaning against the doorframe talking to Kai. Pushing past her brother she dropped her bag into the bluenette's empty arms and said in a honey sweet voice, "Shove my bag in the car will ya? Thanks Kai!"

She turned round and sprinted upstairs without waiting for an answer. She slowed down just short of the bathroom door.

"Hah! I'm not gonna slip this time," she smirked to herself, stepping carefully over the damp tiles to brush her teeth. She had just finished when she heard the guys beeping the horn outside. She swore and spun around, dashing to the door. Suddenly she felt a sodden towel under her foot and the world seemed to spin before her arse went down for a painful meeting with the wet floor.

"FUCKIN' HELL!!!"

In a thoroughly black mood Misha stomped down to the hallway. She glared furiously at her bag which Kai had just dropped on the front step. Gritting her teeth she picked it up and slammed the door shut. When she reached the car, Johnny and Kai where watching her, she ignored their amused gazes she shoved her bag on the backseat. She was about to get in when Johnny said in a mild voice, "You forgot to lock the door."

Giving him a dark look she went back and locked the front door with a sharp, abrupt flick of the wrist. When she got back to the car Johnny was smothering his laughter and even the usually stoic Kai had something that resembled a grin on his face.

"What is it?" questioned Misha testily, but Johnny merely shrugged his shoulders and revved up the car. Normally their mother drove them but she had had something on and Kai had offered them a lift. Kai's grandfather was totally loaded so he had some awesome cars. Johnny had jumped at the chance and had begged permission to drive. Kai couldn't care less and had agreed.

As they turned out of their quiet street in the suburbs, Misha leant forward over the front seat and tried to insert a Linkin Park CD. Knowing her well enough, Kai shoved her hand out of the way and took over so she could sit back down again. He pressed play and turned the volume up nice and loud. As the heavy music started to filter into the car he adjusted the speakers so the sound came through the back. Slightly placated Misha settled more comfortably into her seat, enjoying her twenty minutes of morning music.

In the driver's seat Johnny picked up his conversation where it had been halted by his sister's sudden appearance, the fact that she had a massive wet patch on her butt had also distracted them, but he'd decided to let someone else inform her of that.

"So you decided whether you're going tomorrow?" Johnny grinned at his friend's predictable silence and continued pestering, "Come on Kai! The party's gonna be awesome…"

"I'll go."

Johnny glanced back at his sister and laughed, "Yeah right, maybe when you grow up a bit."

Misha glared at him, "Bullshit, I'm only one year younger."

Johnny snorted, "Who said I was talking about age? It's called maturity and you just happen to be lacking it."

"Arsehole! I don't see what's so mature about going and getting drunk and high on pot."

"And you ain't gonna find out on Friday because you ain't coming."

Misha glared again and leant forward to turn up the volume, all the while muttering insults just loud enough for her brother to hear them.

Johnny rolled his eyes, "See, real mature," then shaking his head he turned the volume down a bit and continued talking to Kai, "Anyway, I know the whole deal with the police didn't go down very well with your grandfather last time, but Enrique's having it at his place while his parents are away on business and the house has massive grounds so we don't even have to worry about being heard…"

Kai finally spoke, halting Johnny mid-rant, "Not my scene."

Johnny frowned and turned into the student car park, looking round for a space. Finally spotting one he hurriedly backed into it and turned off the engine. As soon as the music stopped Misha jumped out, grabbed her bag and slammed the door behind her. Ignoring her little tantrum, which was pretty much routine, Johnny pulled the keys out of the ignition and turned to his best friend, giving it one last try, "Dude, you gotta lighten up, it's the end of the week. We've only got two days of school this week, it's not like you'll have any work. And who cares if you don't get good enough scores? You're grandpa's got enough cash to get the entire town into any university in the world. You can do whatever course, whenever and wherever you want."

This time it was Kai's turn to get out and slam the door. Before he left he leaned down to talk to Johnny through the open window, "Leave my grandfather out of this McGregor. Besides, I'm meeting Tala Friday after he's finished work. We might swing round later but don't count on it," and he turned and left.

Johnny frowned and sat back in his seat. It was normal for him to piss his sister off, in fact it happened just about every day, but he didn't normally get a rise out of Kai. In fact, he never got a rise out of Kai; must've hit a sore spot. Shrugging he got out of the car muttering, "What is it, get pissed at Johnny day?"

* * *

Keira had survived the first two periods at Bakuten High and it was finally recess. 

Uniform was pretty standard. Grey pants for guys, grey skirts for girls. White shirts for everyone, black shoes for everyone, navy jumpers for everyone and green ties… for everyone. Whoop-dee-doo.

It was a public school but they had thrown the idea of casual clothes and opted for the ridiculously uncomfortable suit instead. And rules about uniform were strict. She had already been told off twice for not having her tie done up properly and having her shoelace undone… and because she hadn't got her socks pulled up… and because she hadn't had her hair tied back. Okay, so she had already been told off four times but the little, lost new-girl act had saved her from any serious ramifications.

Theoretically Brooklyn was supposed to be showing her around because he was her host, but he had already ditched her in favour of some guy called Johnny or something. Brooklyn had made a point of avoiding all contact with her since the little incident on her first day. He was still a bit sore about her interrupting his game. Keira scowled mentally, it wasn't like she had asked him to come after her. In fact she had specifically pointed out that she was completely capable of going out by herself.

Turning her thoughts back to figuring out where she was supposed to be she pushed past some kids as she headed for the staircase. By the looks of her not-so-clear timetable she was on the wrong floor for her next class. Plus she needed to go to the bathroom, and she was pretty sure that was downstairs.

Halfway down she discovered another interesting little fact to add to her file about the Kingston family. Apparently Darien wasn't the only one who was popular with the ladies. Brooklyn was currently feeling up and passionately making out with a girl who looked decidedly different from the one he had taken to the cinema last night. In fact, this was the third girl that Keira had seen him with since her arrival four days ago.

Keira rolled her eyes and sneered, "Get a room _Ron-Ron_."

Brooklyn wrenched his mouth of the girl and glared at her with those angry blue eyes.

Keira just walked on past laughing to herself. The Weasley reference got him every time. She had dubbed him Ron ever since he had walked in on her conversation in Central. Granted, it wasn't the best way to make up with him, but it wasn't her fault, he shouldn't have been eavesdropping in the first place.

She mentally flipped a coin and took a right at the bottom of the stairs. Thankfully she found a bathroom a few metres away.

* * *

Brooklyn glared at the retreating figure. Suddenly he felt inexplicably annoyed and had lost all desire to make out with the girl in front of him. He pushed the girl away and muttered, "Piss off," then wandered towards the courtyard. 

Something about Keira threw him off balance. Ever since she had arrived things had been different. He couldn't find his centre and was constantly feeling agitated or irritated. It was hard enough living in a large family as people often got unintentionally neglected, and having her around wasn't helping. Everyone seemed obsessed with making sure she feels at home and helping her learn her way around. It was getting to him.

"What's wrong Brookie? Darling, you alright?"

It was that bloody girl he had been making out with following him like a puppy.

"Didn't I tell you to piss off?" snapped Brooklyn, and she gave him a hurt look before whirling round and flouncing off in the other direction. Probably to cry and complain to some of her friends he thought unkindly. It wasn't like they were in a relationship; she was just a way to get his mind of the gypsy girl.

He had decided he didn't like Keira when she had barged in that Monday afternoon demanding to go to Central. Who did she think she was? Couldn't she see that he was in the middle of something? Since then he had made a point of ignoring her and leaving the room when she entered and all that jazz. There were enough people to fawn over her without him joining in.

He located Johnny and slouched on the wall next to him.

The redhead saw him and grinned.

"Sup Brooklyn, you coming to the party this Friday?"

"Yeah, whatever man," he responded listlessly.

"Dude what's up?" asked Johnny, surprised at his friend's attitude. Brooklyn was usually a pretty happy-go-lucky guy; this was totally out of character for him.

"It's this girl," started Brooklyn, frustrated, only to have Johnny interrupt with, "Brooklyn's in love!"

Brooklyn rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pocket.

"Nah, she's a total bitch – the girl who's staying with us. My parent's can't get enough of her though, they think she's wonderful. It's really pissing me off."

Johnny nodded his head sympathetically, "Yeah I know. My sister's been a bitch to me all week. I don't get it, what did I do to her? Nothing."

Brooklyn stared at his friend for a moment before replying, "Dude, she's related to you. I think that would cause issues for anyone."

* * *

Keira finished washing her hands and couldn't resist the urge to tug at the green knot around her neck to loosen it a bit. She decided that she would never get used to the feeling of constant strangulation. The lack of air must've been getting to her because she was hallucinating. That, or there really was a random redheaded girl trying to stick her arse up the hand-dryer. 

Approaching the obviously slightly mad student, Keira said, "You do realise you generally use toilet paper to dry your ass and the hand-dryer to dry your hands."

The redhead just glared past her and at the cubicles with steely eyes growling, "They bloody well knew I had a frigging wet patch. I'd bet my damn life on it. Arseholes! I had to sit through a whole double with a wet bum."

Keira shook her head slowly and replied, "Sorry, I don't speak idiot. You'll either have to translate that into plain English or better yet just shove aside for a moment so I can dry my hands."

Misha suddenly became aware of the brunette before her. She had been too preoccupied with thinking up death-threats and trying to get her skirt dry to notice anything else. What was this girl talking about? Why was she just standing there with dripping wet hands? Wasn't that what a dryer was… oh. Everything clicked into place for the redhead and she quickly jumped aside, slightly embarrassed.

"Sorry! Sorry! It's just I fell in the bathroom this morning and I had this giant wet patch on my skirt and I wanted to dry it off because I sat through the whole morning with it and it's a really bad feeling and I was just using the dryer to dry it off because I'd already tried toilet paper, but it wasn't working fast enough so I thought this would be kinda like using a hairdryer and…"

The brunette finished drying her hands and looked at the redhead perplexedly.

"Do I look like I give a damn?"

Misha examined the girl's features and said, "Nope," and then after a slight pause continued, "And I suppose you don't give a damn about the stain on my skirt either."

Keira snorted, "Not likely."

The redhead looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and then grinned, "Then I think you and I are going to get along fine. Name's Misha and I've just spent all morning having people laugh at me, so I could do with spending time with someone who doesn't give a damn."

Keira stared at her in bemusement, not quite sure what to make of the short girl. Realising she should probably respond she quickly said, "Keira, my name's Keira."

Misha smiled and pulled her out the bathroom door saying, "Keira eh? Good name. I think this is the start of a glorious friendship. We've got another fifteen minutes before the bell rings for class; let me introduce you to some of my friends. I think Nessa and Blaire will be in the courtyard."

"Nessa and Blaire," repeated Keira.

"Yeah, friend's of mine," responded the redhead cheerfully, pushing a pathway through the noisy throng of students.

"I think we've already met."

Misha stopped and looked at her curiously for a moment and queried, "Really? When?" then walked on without waiting for an answer, still pulling Keira with her and yelling over her shoulder, "Some would say small world, but I reckon it must be fate. First you make friends with them and now with me. We're destined to hang out together. You can't escape us now."

Keira let herself be dragged along without protest. She blocked out the bizarre chatter from her newfound 'friend' and wondered how she always managed to attract the strange ones. Suddenly she had a feeling this day was gonna get a whole lot more interesting.

* * *

Johnny slunk into his classroom, late. Up front the teacher was explaining what they would be covering this semester. The redhead slouched down in a chair near the back and winced when a loud, mocking voice echoed around the room. 

"Well, well. Fancy seeing you here again Mr McGregor. Late as usual, but then again, why break the tradition?"

"Sorry sir…" began Johnny but was interrupted.

"Save it for someone who cares McGregor. If you're late again it's detention, you know the drill."

"Yes sir," said Johnny nodding his head sullenly. Mr Karlson was the history at Bakuten High and always taught 21st century history. The guy was getting on in years and looked like he had been through hell, and according to the stories he pretty much had. Karlson was old enough to have lived through most of what he taught. It definitely made him a damn fine teacher but it meant he also came with his little quirks.

Johnny had had him last year for this same class and he couldn't remember Karlson actually using his first name once. Being an army veteran the guy was obsessed with things like punctuality, tidiness and push-ups if you did something wrong. Occasionally he wondered how Karlson managed to remain a teacher using such unorthodox methods, but the veteran produced such good grades from his students that it was generally overlooked by the school board.

The feeling of something poking his side brought Johnny out of his reverie. He scowled at the source of the irritation which happened to be a pencil. A pencil being held by a hand, which was attached to a body, which belonged to…

"Nessa?" he whispered in confusion.

"Heya Johnny!" whispered the blonde back smiling.

Johnny stared at her in surprise. He and Nessa had been next door neighbours for years until her parents suddenly got rich and moved to a bigger house. Up until that point they had done everything together. It wasn't so much that they were close friends, in fact a lot of the time they could barely tolerate each other, but it just worked out like that. Whenever Nessa needed a ride into town she would ask Johnny, if she needed an alibi to go to see a friend she would ask Johnny, if she needed someone to accompany her to a party she would ask Johnny. And for some reason he could never say no.

Nessa was a bumbling bag of personality. She often got herself into tricky situations and Johnny had made it his task to always be there to get her out of them. It could kinda be equated to a big brother thing he guessed. She was his little kid sister that he had to take care of. However his little kid sister had grown up a bit.

It may seem odd that just because she moved they hadn't really spoken in two years, but somehow it just worked out that way. The convenience was gone. They were no longer next door to each other, they couldn't just jump the fence to say hello. In some ways Johnny had found it liberating. He could go to parties to get drunk, not to look out for her. He wasn't dragged along to mushy, girlie films that held no appeal to him whatsoever. Occasionally he had thought of calling her to see how she was, but there was always something else to do.

In school he was technically a year above her so they hadn't shared classes or spent any time together, until now. Now that he had dropped back a year things would be different. His eyes dropped to the long, tanned legs that were sticking out from the grey skirt. Yes, things would be very different.

In the two years Nessa had gone from a lanky fifteen year old who was happy to wear whatever to a beautiful young woman who could probably get a job as a model if she so desired. She smiled at him and he felt something his stomach clench.

He watched her as she whispered excitedly, "I can't believe we're in the same class together!"

"If you've got something to say Miss O'Conner, come up the front of the room and spit it out," bellowed Mr Karlson.

Nessa's blue eyes widened slightly as she stuttered, "I… I didn't… umm… I don't…"

"Then drop on the floor and give me twenty!" he roared.

Johnny smirked when he saw Nessa's panicked face, she had obviously never had Mr Karlson before. Maybe things hadn't changed that much. Oh well, Johnny to the rescue. He sighed and announced lazily, "Wasn't her sir, it was me."

Karlson's eyes flicked to his face and the veteran grinned eerily and said, "Very chivalrous of you Mr McGregor. NOW DROP AND GIVE ME THIRTY!!!"

Johnny glanced briefly at Nessa and saw the relieved, thankful look on her face. Then he dropped swiftly and proceeded to carry out the punishment with ease. One year in Karlson's class with an attitude like Johnny's and you quickly got into shape.

* * *

Lunch at Bakuten High lasted for an hour. You either brought your own lunch or bought something from the cafeteria. During summer people would generally sprawl out on the oval to eat and at the same time watch the sports practices. During the colder months they would retreat inside and huddle around heaters in the classrooms until they got kicked out again. 

Luckily it was a warm day today and everyone could migrate outside. Keira found herself being dragged along by Misha who was giving her a running commentary as they headed round to the other side of the oval.

"…and that's Kenny, but we all call him Chief, if you're having problems with anything mechanical he's an absolute whiz. Of course, he's good at everything else as well but for everything else you can just asked Blaire, she's super smart. Over there's my brother Johnny… yeah, he's the one who looks like me, aren't I lucky? That girl next to him, that's Danielle, but we won't talk about her. And the two making out, they're Rei and Mariah. The two guys with attitudes are Tala and Kai. And look, there's your Brooklyn! The cute guy he's chatting with is Miguel…"

Keira zoned out. Like she cared who Brooklyn hung out with. The guy was an arsehole. Trying to see where they were headed, she finally caught a glimpse of Blaire sitting in the shade of a large oak. The girl was easy to spot with her orange hair and black streaks. A few metres away stood Nessa talking to some girl who was in Keira's chemistry class; Mariam was her name or something like that. The two were chatting animatedly but as Misha and Keira approached they finished their conversation and Mariam waved goodbye and headed off, most likely to sign up for one of the summer sports.

Nessa greeted Misha and Keira enthusiastically. Once they had all settled down on the grass she asked, "So are any of you guys going to Enrique's party tomorrow? I was talking to Mariam and it's gonna be awesome. We should all go together."

Misha face lit up and she grinned evilly.

"That could be fun."

Nessa didn't seem to notice the manic look on her friend's face and said to Keira, "You should come bub; it'll be a good way for you to get to know everyone."

Keira shook her head and replied, "I don't do parties."

"Aww! Why not? We can make it whole evening. After school you guys can all come crash at my place and we'll do hair and makeup and order pizza and then later on we can just walk over to Enrique's 'cause it's so close. You can all sleep over as well!" persuaded Nessa, excitement evident on her face at the thought of having a sleepover.

Keira was about to say no again when Misha butted in and said, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you and old Brookie boy don't exactly see eye to eye. Well I'm in the samme situation with my brother. So firstly it'll annoy the hell out of Brooklyn if you turn up. Plus, with a little help, I reckon I can make it a night he and Johnny always remember."

Keira was slightly taken aback by the wicked gleam in the small Scott's eyes, but the thought of pranking Brooklyn was just too tempting. With a smirk on her on face Keira replied, "I'm in."

Nessa smiled happily and turned her attention to Blaire.

"What about you sweetie? You coming?"

Blaire shook her head quickly and pushed her black, rectangular frames further up her nose.

Nessa frowned, "Oh please Blaire! You know it won't be any fun without you."

"I have other stuff to do," she said quietly.

"Like what? Study? That's impossible Blaire! None of the teachers start giving out homework until next week. Please come! I know they're not really your thing, but I'll look after you, promise!" implored Nessa, giving her best puppy dog eyes.

Blaire sighed; she couldn't say no to Nessa, they'd been best friends for forever.

"Fine," she said reluctantly and Nessa practically squealed with joy and promptly hugged her friend, "But promise you won't leave me alone."

"I promise," grinned Nessa.

The next fifty minutes was spent discussing plans for the party and the sleepover. It was Blaire who finally reminded them that they had to start heading to class.

Nessa sighed gloomily and then almost instantly was back to her usual high. Perkily she asked, "What ya got next Keira?"

The brunette fished for the folded timetable in her pocket and scanned it quickly.

"Advanced French, whatever that means."

"You're in my class," said Blaire, "The advanced part just means you're studying with the year above. You must be pretty good at it."

Keira shrugged, "You pick things up when you travel a lot. Anything to do with languages and culture I find easy. When it comes to maths and science and stuff, not so easy."

"It must've been pretty cool travelling all around the world like that," Blaire commented as they left Misha and Nessa and headed towards their classroom.

"It gets old pretty fast."

"I want to travel once I finish school. I want to explore Europe. I love almost all European accents, I think they sound beautiful."

Keira glanced at the slightly shorter girl. Blaire always talked quietly, she was the girl that always got good grades but never said much. And yet here she was pouring out her dreams to a girl she had only met a few days ago. Just goes to show how unpredictable people can be, thought the brunette.

"This is our classroom," indicated Blaire.

The two girls walked through the door. There were already people at the desks. Most were a year older than Keira and Blaire. A couple of girls were chatting in the back corner of the room. Up front, sitting on the desks were Tala and Kai. Tala's legs were blocking the way through to the other desks, but Blaire manoeuvred quietly around him. Tala didn't even glance at her. Keira took a more direct approach and just shoved him out of the way, which definitely got his attention.

"Watch were your going bitch," exclaimed the redhead angrily.

"Bite me," replied Keira coolly.

Tala opened his mouth to say something else but at that moment the French teacher walked in. She was a flustered, disorganised woman who looked like she had no personal life and lived for her students. That being said she was absolutely approachable and would help out in any way she could, but was tough when it came to grading and was thorough in her teaching.

"Asseyez-vous s'il vous plaît mes enfants. On va commencer maintenant. Je sais que c'est presque la fin du jour, mais on dois faire un peu de travail. Donc – asseyez-vous! Asseyez-vous!" (Please sit down children. We'll start now. I know it's nearly the end of the day but we've got to do a bit of work. So – sit down! Sit down!)

Slowly everyone made their way to their seats and the last class of the day began.

* * *

Kai waited patiently in the lobby of the restaurant where Tala worked on Monday, Thursday and Friday nights. _Les Trois Etoiles_ was a classy affair in the centre of town. It offered silver service and the best food money could buy, well at least in Bakuten. It looked out onto the Bakuten Lake and provided open air dining when the weather permitted. 

People stared at the slate haired kid as they left the restaurant. He looked out of place, lounging against the wall dressed in his torn jeans and Green Day t-shirt. Kai smirked at the snotty looks he was getting. They'd probably piss their pants in fear if they found out who his grandfather was. The Hiwitari fortune would make them all look like beggars. And more to the point, it was a free country – he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

He was getting a suggestive look from a gorgeous blonde when Tala came out dressed in a black, tailored shirt and simple black slacks. The girl looked like she had one the jackpot when she saw the two of them greet each other. Kai sent her a glare that had her scuttling back to the elderly, loaded, likely-to-die-soon man she was with. Gold-digger. Turning back to his friend he noticed Tala had already torn of the white bowtie and was in the process of lazily messing up his hair back into its normal state and untucking his shirt.

"Let's get out of here man," said Tala tiredly.

Kai nodded and the two of them sauntered off down the street heading towards the lake. By following the trail around the edge of the water they would pass by Central and then round into Tala's part of town.

It was 10:30pm and the sky was dark. It was a decent twenty minute walk and they spent most of it in silence. They had been friends for years, and a lot of the time words just weren't necessary. Eventually, just as they had reached the other side of the lake and were heading down an alley that led to Tala's place, Kai spoke up.

"There's a party at Enrique's tomorrow night. Johnny's been pestering me all day asking if I'll go. You game?"

There was a brief silence as they hoisted themselves up and over the fence. They landed quietly on the half-dead grass and slipped in through a door to the garage. This was Tala's back way in that he used when he got home late and couldn't be bother circling the large apartment block and using the front gate.

"I dunno man, I got stuff to do – you know that," he finally replied and then there was another pause as Tala stopped by his bike. The redhead ran his hand over the vehicle, just checking it was still there because you couldn't be sure in these parts. Obviously satisfied he walked on towards the stairs that led up to his floor and added, "I guess we could afterwards."

"Whatever, 'snot like we have to RSVP or anything," muttered Kai preoccupied. His eyes slid to the scratches in the black and red paint as he passed his friend's bike. Frowning he picked up his pace to catch up with Tala, who had already disappeared down a hallway.

They reached number seventeen and Tala unlocked the door. His hand went to the light switch but only the light in the living room went on, the kitchen stayed dark.

"Shit, bulb must've blown. You mind fixing it while I get changed?"

Kai nodded and walked into the small cooking area. He spent half of his life at Tala's place escaping his grandfather so he knew where to look. Reaching around in the dark he finally came across and new bulb and carefully unscrewed the old one. Disposing of that he twisted the new one into place and blinked rapidly as light suddenly flooded the room.

"What the hell? How the hell did you get that?" exclaimed Tala, who had just walked in, white wifebeater only half on.

Kai's t-shirt had ridden up slightly while he was replacing the light bulb exposing one of the many bloody bruises that littered his body. Realising his mistake he abruptly pulled the shirt down and pushed past his friend to enter the living room without saying a word. He slouched down on the couch and turned on the TV, flicking nonchalantly through the channels.

Tala sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew that Kai's grandfather could get aggressive. When they first got to know each other Kai would often turn up with bruises, but the slate haired boy could always explain them away. Kai could lie with the best of them. Then one day he had finally visited the place that Kai called home. It was an unexpected and unwelcome visit. A butler had directed him to Kai's room but his friend had turned him away angrily, however not before Tala had caught a glimpse of the freshly inflicted wounds.

There had been no point in lying from then on; instead they just hadn't spoken of it. If he tried to question Kai then all he would receive was blank stares. Recently there had been no bruises. Tala figured it had finally stopped; it hadn't even crossed his mind that Kai might just be getting better at hiding them.

He entered the room where his friend was still channel surfing.

"Kai, why do you let him do this to you?"

Auburn eyes didn't move from the screen as the teen replied darkly, "The deal is you don't ask me questions and I don't ask you how your bike got smashed up like that."

Tala didn't reply, although he did wonder briefly at how his friend always noticed details like that, it wasn't like the engine was missing or anything. He sighed again and thought about what Kai had said. There was no response to that. It was true. They both led dark lives and they didn't particularly want to talk about them in the few moments of peace they had. That was why their friendship was so special: there were no questions asked, they just offered each other simple acceptance. So instead of pressing his point the redhead sat down comfortably the couch. Late into the night the two friends watched the flickering screen in a companionable silence.

* * *

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… it has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival 

_C. S. Lewis_

* * *

**A/N: **Well, there it was. I really hope the next chapter will be better because honestly this was a bit of a let down. 

Once again, to all those who reviewed my sincere thanks, you guys all made my day!


	3. Reflective Vanilla Pins

**A/N: **Nobody actually said if they received an answer to their review last time, so I'm just gonna post them at the end of the chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but the stuff that is my own.

* * *

S µ м m ε ® Ŕ α ϊ η

* * *

We live for nights we'll never remember with the people we'll never forget 

_Anonymous_

* * *

"I have better things to do than tutor some random chick! Get Brooklyn to do it, he lives with her," complained a guy with funky black and red hair. 

"Don't get me involved Ozuma," snapped Brooklyn.

"Dude, she's your exchange student or whatever, you take care of her!"

"Alright guys, that's enough," interrupted their maths teacher, Mr Bower, "Brooklyn, Ozuma's got a point. You're good at maths, plus you've got the added convenience of living in the same house."

"This is totally unfair. You can't make me do this!" Brooklyn objected.

"Yeah, and you can't make me do it either," joined in Ozuma.

"Alright, alright," interjected Mr Bower hastily, "It's true you're under no obligation, but Keira really needs some help to catch up with her maths."

"If that's supposed to make me feel bad, it's not working," retorted Brooklyn.

The brunette, who had been standing there the whole time and was currently blushing with humiliation, decided she couldn't handle any more of this and said, "Look, it's fine. I can catch up by myself."

The teacher brushed her off saying, "There's no way you can catch up that much work without help. You're too far behind."

Keira gritted her teeth in annoyance, but didn't say anymore. He was probably right. Although maths was a 'universal language' it wasn't necessarily taught all over the universe. And because so much of her time had been spent in poorer countries often the level of maths that was taught was very limited. Teachers just didn't have the time or resources to teach their students any more than the very basics, so that was all Keira had ever really learnt.

Finally the Mr Bower spoke again, "Alright Brooklyn, I'll sweeten the deal. If you tutor Keira in maths and she can maintain a B+ average the entire semester I'll sort it out so it counts as your community service," that caught Brooklyn's attention and the maths teacher smiled and continued, "That's right. No long hours in nursing homes listening to old people's stories, no endless weeknights stacking books in the local library, no wasted Saturdays spent cleaning the graffiti…"

"Fine, I'll do it," grumbled Brooklyn and grabbed his test paper off the pile and went back to his seat.

Keira gave Mr Bower a forced smile and a faked 'thanks' and took her paper back as well. She glanced over it as she sat down at her desk. Yesterday, as their first lesson, they had done a kind of pre-test to see what level they were all at and how much they remembered. From a glance it was painstakingly clear that she was seriously behind. The pages were covered in red marks from where she had made mistakes or not even known how to begin the equation.

"Alright guys," yelled Mr Bower over the noisy discussions students were having about their tests. Quickly they settled down and he continued, "Most of you did fairly well on the quiz yesterday. There were a couple of tricky questions in there, but on the whole it should've all been stuff you've already done. Now I'm just going to go over what the maths department expects you to already know at this level."

As he started to write up a list on the whiteboard Keira groaned and buried her head in her arms. Words like anti-differentiation, hyperbola, simultaneous equations, logarithmic graphs and exponential functions meant nothing to her. It was only her second day and already she felt like she was drowning in a sea of gibberish. How the hell was she supposed to learn it all?

She took a sly glimpse at Brooklyn to see how he was taking all this. To her surprise, the ginger-haired boy was calmly copying down the list from the board, adding a few extra notes here and there and all the while looking slightly bored, almost like this was… _easy_.

As if he felt her watching him he turned slightly and his blue gaze landed directly on her. He smirked when he saw her irritated and somewhat mystified expression. Keira childishly stuck her tongue out at him and looked back at the board, pretending she understood what Mr Bower was explaining. Inwardly she crying, she could tell Brooklyn was gonna milk this for all it was worth.

* * *

"Sup Tala. How was work?" asked Kai smugly, pushing himself of the wall of _Les Trois Etoiles _and walking over to greet his friend. 

Tala eyed him suspiciously; as far as he knew only one thing induced such loquaciousness in his friend.

"You're drunk."

Kai gave a small laugh and shook his head saying, "Nah, I'm alright; just had a few beers."

Tala rolled his eyes, "Yeah sure, just a _few_ beers," he mocked.

Kai was too drunk to notice he was being made fun off and slung his arm around Tala's shoulder and said solemnly, "That's right. See we gotta celebrate."

Tala began to lead his friend round the back to where he'd left his bike, ignoring the looks from people around them. He'd only experienced a drunken Kai a few times. Of course they'd gotten drunk together quite a lot but generally Tala had also been too pissed to remember anything come morning. However the one thing he'd learnt was it was usually best to just go along with whatever his friend said, because a drunk Kai could be an angry, violent Kai. And this boy definitely wasn't lacking in strength.

"So why are we celebrating?"

Kai snorted, "Because the old bastard's gone away."

Tala glanced at his friend in surprise, "Voltaire's gone?"

Now it was time for Kai to look at him in surprise, eyes wide, and then loudly proclaim, "Voltaire's gone?! Quick mate! Get me a beer, we've got to celebrate!"

Tala rolled his eyes. Kai was definitely drunk, in fact absolutely pissed. Tala wondered briefly if his friend had dipped into their shared store of imported Russian vodka without him. He didn't have long to ponder this as Kai staggered sideways in desperate need of something to keep him upright.

"Come on, let's get you home," Tala sighed and slung Kai's arm over his shoulder.

Kai stared at him with confused auburn eyes and said, "We gotta celebrate, gotta go to Enrique's."

Tala rubbed his forehead; he wasn't feeling up to this tonight. He'd had a long evening at work surrounded by people with so much damn money they didn't even know what to do with it and right now he didn't feel like partying.

"Kai man, let's just go home."

Kai vehemently shook his head and replied stubbornly, "Gotta go to Enrique's."

Tala gave up; he wasn't in a mood to fight either, especially when he knew Kai would end up getting his way.

"Alright, fine. Enrique's it is."

* * *

"I'm not so sure this was such a good idea…" murmured Blaire as they approached the front door of the Giancarlo's house. Already they could hear the bass pounding out of the high-tech sound system. Loud cheers and shouting and laughter indicated that the party was already well underway. 

"Stop worrying bub! Once you get in there and have a few drinks you'll loosen up and have tons of fun!" said Nessa cheerfully.

"Yeah sure…" replied Blaire weakly. She wasn't going to be drinking anything – that was for sure. But she couldn't say that to Nessa because the blonde looked so happy. Nessa lived for times like this. She was fun-loving and totally out-going and fitted right in. Blaire didn't want to spoil it for her.

The front door was open so they walked right in.

An invasive torrent of sounds and smells enveloped them the moment they passed through the door. Blaire's senses were affronted by the almost tangible manifestation of teenage hormones. This party was everything she had expected. It was a heavy, loud, lustful atmosphere full of cheap booze, wandering hands and a killer beat that scared the shit out of her. At the same time it was an electrifying, liberating, seductive reality that offered an experience free of rules, consequences and expectations, or at least until the morning after.

Before her senses could adjust to the pounding bass and smoky air Nessa grabbed Blaire's hand and dragged her further into the seething mass of teenagers.

Afterwards Blaire was never quite sure how they had managed to reach the other side unscathed. One moment they were part of the swaying, grinding crowd and the next she was seated firmly in the corner of an empty, designer couch watching Nessa's back as she wandered off to find drinks.

Blaire pushed her rectangular frames further up her nose and then began picking nervously at her recently-applied, black nail polish. Spending the evening with Nessa, Keira and Misha had mostly been fun. They had talked about everything from the evils of school uniform and their holiday sleeping habits to the qualities of their ultimate dream-guy and the best toppings for a pizza (that part of the conversation had come just as they ordered dinner). Add in a brief bitchfest about the teachers who had given them too much homework and a heated debate about the best genre of music and that just about summed it up.

Dinner had come and been demolished in about fifteen minutes flat. Then the time had arrived for the 'make-over' as Nessa put it. Misha had disappeared in record time, claiming she had to do some research for tonight's party. Keira had given Nessa a look that had the blonde backing away because of a fervent wish to live, and so that had left only Blaire.

Blaire found it easiest just to submit. The process had taken a little under an hour and had involved things such as straightening her already straight hair, blending in foundation and blush to the point where you couldn't actually tell she had any on and trying on multiple outfits, all of which were Nessa's so they didn't fit her and she ended up wearing what she had brought for the sleepover. To be honest Blaire didn't quite understand the point of the whole process, but it made Nessa happy so she was happy to.

A brief glimpse in the mirror just before they had left had surprised Blaire. She had looked… prettier? Somehow despite looking exactly the same, her skin look nicer and her hair sat straighter and… it was hard to explain. She looked completely different but also as if nothing had changed. Nessa was good at that. The blonde knew that Blaire would be uncomfortable in bright makeup and fancy hair, so instead she made an effort to make her look completely natural. Nevertheless Nessa had no inhibitions when it came to her own makeup. She never dressed to look trashy, but she wasn't afraid of colourful eyeshadows and sparkling lip gloss.

Blaire sighed as she thought of her friend. Sometime she almost felt jealous, sometimes she wanted to wear sexy, stylish clothes and makeup. But she would just feel silly and strange. It worked for Nessa, the bright colours and striking outfits. It all matched her personality and she always looked stunning. Tonight she had curled her long blonde hair into gentle waves and the blue tips stood out beautifully against her baby pink top. Her legs were long and slender in their washed-out, skinny-leg jeans and the knee-high, black boots added to her height. Yes, she had found the boots at the end of their third day of shopping.

Blaire looked down and self-consciously picked at her sleeve. She was wearing a rather conservative outfit that consisted of her personalised blue jeans (a number of safety pins and the like had found residence on the material when she could find nowhere else to put them) and a green singlet with the logo, "Help Save a Vegetable… Eat More Meat". On the whole she looked… plain. She would never have the bold, charming personality of her friend. She didn't fit into scenes like this, she just wanted to go home, curl up in bed and read her book.

Nessa had been gone a bit too long for Blaire's liking and she was considering leaving the refuge of the couch to go and look for her, but before she could make up her mind a tall, tanned guy sat down comfortably next to her. He had sun-bleached blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. He smiled at her and Blaire felt heat rushing to her cheeks, so she swallowed and looked away.

"Hi, I'm Miguel."

The words took a while to register with Blaire, who suddenly felt that the couch wasn't quite as safe and comfortable as it had been a few moments ago. Of course she knew who he was, they had been going to the same school since God knows when, not that he would have even given her the time of day up until now.

"And you are?" he prompted when she didn't say anything.

"B…Blaire," she managed to croak. Her cheeks felt even hotter when she heard her own feeble answer, she felt like she hadn't spoken in years, like her voice was all rusty.

"You enjoying the party?"

"Not really," she replied before she could stop herself. Blaire wanted to hit herself over the head with a very large, very blunt object. So much for a good first impression. This wasn't really the time for honesty. She should've said something positive and well, for lack of a better word… normal. Every other girl in this room was having a great time and here she was sounding like a complete wet blanket and…

"Not your thing? Each to their own I guess. What do you prefer doing?"

His voice was low and gentle with an amused overtone and did he just _not_ get up and walk away? Blaire couldn't help herself; she glanced up at him and found herself staring into a kind face that radiated genuine interest. He was still sitting there and he actually wanted to talk to her. Blaire was sure she must look like a tomato by now and quickly shifted her gaze back down again.

Miguel shifted slightly, not quite sure of how to interpret her silence, so he offered, "I like sports."

Well that much is obvious, thought Blaire as she resolutely focused on anything but his face, which at the moment happened to be his pair of very tanned, very toned arms. If it was at all possible she felt even more embarrassed at that thought and mentally scolded herself.

Feeling that she couldn't really screw things up any more, Blaire took the plunge and blurted out, "I like reading," and hated herself at once because that was only about the nerdiest thing she could've possibly said and probably about the only thing that would screw things up more.

"Yeah? What's your favourite kind? Of book, I mean."

Blaire just wanted this torture to end. She wanted him to go away and leave her alone in her misery.

"I like fantasy, and all the classics I guess…" she mumbled reluctantly, pushing her frames back up her nose because they tended to fall down when she spent so much time staring at the ground.

"Fantasy's not so much my thing, but I love the classics."

Blaire's head shot up in surprise. Miguel laughed; a pleasant, refreshing sound.

"What? Just because I play sports I'm suddenly not allowed to like reading?"

Blaire blushed and stammered, "N…no… it's just… it's just I'm…"

"Surprised?" supplied Miguel and she nodded. He sighed and continued, "Yeah, well people are really into stereotyping these days, so I guess 'most everyone would feel the same."

Blaire couldn't think of a response, she just watched him awestruck. Miguel was one of those guys that everyone likes. He was pretty smart so the teachers liked him, he was good-looking so the girls liked him and he always had a funny comment to add to the conversation so the guys liked him as well. Not forgetting the fact that he was an awesome soccer, athletics and basketball player. Blaire was sitting next to the epitome of popular.

And surprisingly, he seemed really nice.

Blaire had always assumed that really popular people were two-faced assholes. And generally that was probably true. But there were always the exceptions. Nessa was definitely one of them. The blonde could probably be 'queen bee' if she so desired, but Nessa had always shrugged off those sort of ideas as unimportant. If it came to a choice between hanging with the 'popular' kids and hanging with Blaire, she'd choose Blaire every time without fail. It was another one of those things that Blaire didn't quite understand but she appreciated nonetheless. Nessa just had, in her own words, "her own set of priorities."

Apparently, Miguel had his own priorities as well because he was sitting here talking to her when he should be partying with his friends. Blaire decided not to question things that she didn't understand and just enjoy the moment. Smiling slightly she realised he was speaking again and tuned in.

"We're studying Romeo and Juliet this year at school, have you read it? You do go to Bakuten right?"

"Mhmm… yeah, I've read it," she nodded and after a moment added, "Romeo's an asshole."

He laughed again, that pleasant sound that Blaire concluded she rather liked.

"That's a bit harsh isn't it?"

Blaire shook her head vehemently, feeling slightly bolder because she knew this topic.

"He's a jerk. One minute he's swooning over some chick and the next he's dumped her in favour of a girl he's never spoken to."

Miguel smiled and gave her a quizzical look, "You don't believe in love at first sight?"

Blaire snorted, "I believe in lust at first sight. He bases his entire opinion on what she looks like, that's not love."

"Yeah but when he thinks she's dead he decides he can't live without her and kills himself, surely you think that's love."

"Nope, that's an over-dramatic, angst-driven, hormonal teenager acting without thinking," retorted Blaire firmly and he laughed.

* * *

From her isolated corner Keira strained to maintain her calm outer appearance. Inside she was bubbling with a mixture of awe, amazement and disgust. These people must be absolutely loaded! She had never seen so much designer decor, expensive artwork and priceless furnishings gathered in one place before. 

She let out a small bitter laugh when she compared it to her childhood residences. In most of the places she had stayed she had been lucky if there were floorboards to cover the dirt ground. And yet here they were so used to this kind of luxury that Enrique (or whatever his name was) hadn't even bothered to stash the more expensive pieces away somewhere safe.

She sipped on her drink and grimaced when she distinguished the faint trace of alcohol indicating that the drinks had already been spiked.

Placing the cup down on a nearby table she couldn't help but notice once again the extravagance of the place. The cost of one room would probably cover about five years of her parents' work. Did these people not realise that there were others in this world who were starving at this very moment? That if they sold even one piece of their superfluous crap then they could probably feed an entire village for a year? To be honest, the value and frivolity of most of the items disgusted her.

"Hey gorgeous."

Keira nearly jumped at the low voice that sounded in her ear. She swung round and came face to face with a very striking pair of eyes. They were like melted chocolate she noted absentmindedly.

An unwelcome hand on her ass brought her out of her reverie and she quickly did the only thing she knew how to do in a situation like this. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it painfully round until the owner of the hand hissed in pain.

An amused chuckle broke her concentration.

"As sure as I am that he deserves that, I feel it my duty as his friend to ask if you'd mind letting him go."

Keira paused for a moment undecided but then dropped her victim's wrist and turned to face the owner of the voice. He was surprisingly familiar.

"You're the asshole from my French class," she said before she could stop herself. Yeah, so what if her social skills needed a little work, it was the damn truth so he could deal with it.

"You're the bitch from my French class," he countered calmly.

"Touché, now do you mind getting your damn friend off of me?" she spat irately, trying to fend off a hand that kept on wandering in dangerous directions. Finally she snapped, "I swear if you touch me again and I'll saw off both your hands with a toothbrush and shove 'em both so far down your throat they come out your ass!"

Tala couldn't help but smirk as he watched a drunken Kai trying to feel up a girl who obviously wasn't in the mood. His friend obviously was so far gone that the nasty threats the little spitfire was coming up with weren't quite processing.

Finally deciding it was time to step in Tala yanked his friend of the poor, harassed girl and even added in an apology for good measure.

"Look, sorry about Kai. Usually he's a pretty decent guy and wouldn't even go near you." Okay, so maybe that didn't come out quite right, but at least he tried.

The brunette just stood there, obviously unsure whether it was an apology or an insult.

"He's right you know, Kai would never normally go near you, he's such a sweet guy," said a sultry voice from beside her and Keira glanced at the newcomer. It was a stunning girl with long wavy brown hair, naturally tanned skin and dark eyes. She smiled, showing off her small, white teeth, and continued, "Oh, by the way I'm Danielle."

"Keira."

Danielle smiled again and Keira was vaguely disturbed when some corner of her mind registered that it was the kind of smile you'd relate to a shark.

"Pretty name, just like Keira Knightly. Pity you don't look like her. Oh well, with cosmetic surgery advancing at the rate it is I guess there's hope for you yet."

Keira was momentarily shocked beyond words.

"Just joking! Loosen up," laughed Danielle, although her eyes glinted with something that made Keira realise she wasn't joking at all.

"Keira here you are! I've been looking all over for you…" Misha trailed off when she saw the brunette's companions and her expression turned dark.

Danielle smiled, "Hey Misha, how were you're holidays? Didn't see you at school, you must've forgotten to bring your box."

Keira quirked a brow at the seemingly random comment, but it seemed to infuriate the little Scottish girl who replied in a vicious, scathing tone that Keira ad never heard her use before.

"No, you probably missed me because your head was stuck so far up your arse. It must be dark in there. Let's go Keira, no need to hang around with trash."

Keira stood silently assessing the situation for a moment then followed after Misha, more to make sure that she didn't kill somebody than any other reason. Of course she didn't really care if the Scott killed someone, it wasn't like she had any friends she didn't want hurt. However, if Misha was accused of murder there would be a possibility that Keira could be charged as an accessory. Not a particularly appealing thought.

Weaving her way through the masses of teenagers and only just managing to keep sight of the redhead, she found herself replaying the previous conversation. The short, biting exchange had been unexpected and intriguing and Keira wondered what had incensed the Scott so much. Shaking her head to forget the thought, Keira reminded herself that she wasn't here to get caught up in school politics, all she needed was to graduate and get her certificate.

Out of nowhere a voice said, "What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were going over to Nessa's for a sleepover."

Keira glared at her host-brother. Tonight really was a night for warm greetings. Thoroughly pissed off she snapped back, "Yeah and that sleepover just happened to evolve into coming to Enrique's party. Got a problem with that _Won Won_?"

Brooklyn clenched his fist so hard the knuckles were turning white and replied, "Don't call me that! You have no right to be here."

Keira snorted, "It's a free country and it's an open party, so everyone's got a right to come you idiot."

"The Declaration only applies to human beings; it doesn't cover the shit on the bottom of my shoe," he retorted gallingly.

Keira clenched her jaw and replied through gritted teeth, "Well at least I now know where the smell was coming from. I got confused because your face looks so much like your ass, and with all the shit you're spewing every time you open your mouth you can understand how I made the mistake."

Brooklyn raised an eyebrow and sneered, "So crude, never would've guessed you had such a potty mouth. Didn't know you spent so much time thinking about my ass either."

Keira mouth dropped open in shock, "And you think I'm crude? Don't think for one minute that your ass is worth fantasising over."

Misha, who had calmed down and was now watching with much amusement, finally managed to say, "Ummm… guys?"

"WHAT?" they both snapped at her in unison.

"Hahaha… erm… yeah… I was just wondering," she began nervously, then deciding she valued her life too much finished meekly, "Never mind… I'll come back at a better time," and she backed away hurriedly. She could get hold of Brooklyn later, for now she could start putting her plan into action by finding Johnny.

* * *

An hour or so and a few beers later Blaire and Miguel were still chatting amiably. The beers belonged to Miguel, but Blaire felt like she could claim the time as her own. It was a special for her, talking to a practical stranger and finding it as easy and naturel as getting dressed in the morning. She felt like she had been doing it for years. She knew exactly what to say and when to say it, all of her previous embarrassment was forgotten and she was just having fun. 

Was this what all those confident people like Nessa felt when they were meeting someone new? If it was, Blaire could definitely understand why they would want to spend all their time at parties meeting new people. There was something curiously liberating about meeting someone and being able to talk to them about anything and everything.

This was totally strange for her as she usually felt shy and awkward until she knew the person thoroughly. Miguel with his warm eyes and inviting smile made her feel completely at home. She could've continued talking for hours, watching his facial expressions change. It fascinated her that when something amused him the right corner of his mouth would quirk up slightly higher than the left, in a sort of tilted grin. She had lost count of how many times she had seen it happen over the course of the conversation.

Her last comment drew a deep chuckle from his throat and Blaire found herself mesmerised by the sound and by the slight vibrations on his tanned neck. She bit her lip and looked away as it suddenly occurred to her that she was probably staring a lot more than it was considered polite. Miguel, if he had noticed, hadn't said anything, so still chewing her bottom lip she tentatively looked back up at him.

Miguel was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't look angry either. There was a darkness in his eyes made Blaire decidedly uncomfortable and she wondered if maybe he was irritated by her. Maybe he'd had enough of her and this was his way of telling her to leave. She certainly felt uneasy to the point where she wanted to leave.

Then before she could quite understand what was happening he was so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him, see the swirl of colours in eyes that weren't purely one shade. Now that he was this close she could see darker pigments of navy lining the iris and eddies of sapphire and cobalt and all the colours of the sea. Miguel was like an embodiment of the beach. He even smelled like it. The fresh, slightly salty, windy smell; the smell of holidays and sunny days.

Blaire's breath hitched in her throat at his large, warm hand reached up to hold her cheek. His thumb stroked her cheekbone and his skin was as coarse and rough as his touch was soft and gentle.

He leaned in even closer and softly, slowly spoke her name, a whisper – nothing more.

The blood was rushing so fast to her head that Blaire could hardly think. Wasn't this supposed to happen on a date or with someone you're actually dating? Or is this what you do at parties? Did she want this? Should she just let it happen? Would he hate her if she stopped him? Would she be stomping on the tiny bud of friendship they had planted? Were they friends? But then on his breath she smelt something else that immediately cleared her mind. That contrary smell of beer, the smooth malt mixed with that bitter sharpness. That damned smell of alcohol.

"G…get off," she choked out.

She really didn't want her first kiss to be from some drunken random. She wanted it to be special and she wanted it from someone she really cared about. Miguel seemed to have other ideas though as he ignored her plea and moved closer. He was so close that she was lost in his eyes and she couldn't look anywhere else. His lips were only inches from hers and she could feel his breath against her face.

Blaire felt tears rising in her eyes as the smell of alcohol seemed to surround her. She squeezed her eyes shut and shoved hard against his chest. He lost his already precarious balance and was sent sprawling back against the couch. Blaire sniffed and tried to regain control of her ragged breathing. She glanced at his face for a moment but it his eyes were shadowed by his blond hair and she couldn't read his expression. The one thing she did note was he definitely wasn't smiling so she quickly untangled her legs and got up off the couch.

She paused for a moment to decide which direction she should go searching in to find Nessa and almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a warm hand grasp her wrist. She turned round to find that Miguel had also recovered and was standing as well. The dark look in his eyes that had been there only moments ago was gone.

"I'm sorry," he said, and looking at his open face Blaire was sure it was an honest apology.

"It's alright," she whispered back and then turned to leave.

"Blaire wait," he said and she stopped to listen, "I know I just screwed up, but I'd really like to meet up with you again, maybe I dunno… we could go for a coffee sometime?"

Blaire stood silent, trying to process what she had just heard. Was he asking her out? Was this guy actually saying he wanted to spend more time with her? That he didn't find her dull and boring? Was this totally cute guy (she wasn't blind) interested… in her?

"I mean, you don't have to," he added quickly when all he received was silence.

Blaire's head was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts but somehow through the confusion she managed to stutter, "Yeah… yeah sure… I'd love to… I mean… I'd like to… I mean…"

Miguel gave her a beautiful smile and said smoothly, "Awesome, maybe if you give me your number I can give you a call so we can work out the details."

Blaire nodded quickly and was searching for a pen when Nessa appeared.

"Hey B-babe! How's it going? You gotta see this darling! Kai, Brooklyn and Johnny are having a drinking contest. So funny!"

Blaire took one look at her friend and judging by her appearance and slightly slurred words decided she had had more than enough to drink. She glanced apologetically at Miguel and said, "I'm sorry, I think I need to get Nessa out of here."

Miguel looked slightly disappointed, but quickly recovered and smiled again.

"It's cool. I'll see you at school anyway; we can figure something out then."

Blaire chanced a quick look into his stunning blue eyes and said quietly, "I'd like that."

Nessa then dragged her away into another room. Sitting cross-legged around a low table in the centre of the small, cheering crowd were Johnny, Kai and Brooklyn. Kai looked half-gone and was having trouble forming coherent sentences, Brooklyn was still going strong but Johnny was by far the worst.

A completely sober and maniacally grinning Misha was egging them on the loudest; all the while grinning evilly at the thought of the massive hangover her brother would have come tomorrow.

Blaire stared in fascination as another round was poured and all three guys downed them at the same time. While she was watching Misha came over and after having interrogated Blaire as to her whereabouts, proceeded to explain what was going on.

"See whoever has to puke first looses. And it's really good because just as we were starting this round Kai turned up and he was already half-drunk but he bet one hundred bucks that he could win this round. How awesome is that? Oh look! There goes Johnny!" and she let out a gleeful, evil laugh.

Blaire watched sympathetically as the redhead stumbled off to try and find a bathroom. She was considering going to help him when Kai also lunged past her looking decidedly ready to spew his guts on the nearest victim. Blaire screwed up her face in disgust and decided maybe she'd let them sort themselves out.

Turning back to the last remaining contestant she saw that Brooklyn was being surrounded by cheering onlookers who were congratulating him on his victory. Misha gave her a large wink and said, "And now the fun really begins," before pushing through the crowd to whisper something in Brooklyn's ear. The guy thought hard for a moment or too then let out a drunken roar of agreement that sent the crowd wild.

Misha grinned evilly and slipped the money into her pocket.

Blaire sighed and rubbed her temple, she suddenly noticed that she had a pounding headache and she realised that tonight was far from over.

"I hope Misha knows what she's doing," she whispered to herself.

"Well nobody else does," commented a voice beside her.

Blaire looked up to see a tall, pale guy standing next to her. Icy blue eyes met briefly with her own before Tala Ivanov strode off to help Kai who had just emerged from the bathroom. Blaire swallowed hard. Tala was one of those people that had an aura around them that made people look twice. He had some indefinable quality that set him apart. Plus there was the fact that he was a total bad boy and his reputation included doing a few things that Blaire was quite sure weren't legal and others that she wasn't sure were even physically possible. Blaire was just glad that his comment hadn't required an answer because she definitely wouldn't have been capable of forming one.

This night was really getting too stressful.

* * *

"You should have silver Kai, considering you came second. And Brookie boy can have gold 'cause he won!" decided Misha happily. 

"Can't argue with logic like that," murmured Rei, who had tagged along to help keep Johnny upright.

"Wha' abou' me? I wanna… I wanna get ma ear pierced," slurred said redhead, trying to look indignant but only managing to pull off mildly constipated.

Misha grinned evilly, "Oh I had something slightly more painful in mind for you."

"I think the same as the others will do just fine," overruled Keira, staring coolly at Misha when the Scot protested, "It'll do just fine Misha."

"Spoilsport," muttered the redhead irritably, "_Fine_! Technically I suppose he should have bronze, but they don't have bronze so he can just have silver like Kai."

The piercing guy was big, big as in 'I could either be hiding a beanbag down my top or this actually is my tummy' kind of big (and just to clear things up: he wasn't hiding a beanbag down his top). He was a piece of art himself with piercings and tattoos covering all visible flesh.

The shop was a reflection of its owner – it was covered in pictures and designs and pieces of metal, it was kinda dirty in the corners and it smelled bad.

Out front there had been a buzzing, neon sign saying proclaiming, "Pablos' Piercing" was open for business. Blaire had found the incorrect grammar kind of disturbing but it hadn't seemed to bother Misha who had headed straight for it (well, she had gone as straight as you can when you're trying to bring four or fives drunks with you).

"Are they allowed to do this?" queried Blaire curiously, "I mean, they're all obviously drunk as hell. Plus they're minors, not that they checked for ID. But surely this is illegal."

"Nope, 'tis the beauty of my plan, we ain't doing anything wrong," grinned Misha a little too happily.

"I don't know how you came to that conclusion..." said Blaire shaking her head, "I mean perhaps legally no, but at least morally we are. It's hardly right to take advantage of someone in an intoxicated state and manipulate them into doing something that if they were not so inebriated they would never consider."

Misha stared at her quizzically, "Okay… and now for those of us with a slightly lower IQ that means…"

"I'm not sure if this is such a good idea," Blaire said for the second time that night.

"Too late," piped in Nessa cheerfully (probably due to how many beers she had drunk) and they all looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. Nessa just grinned and pointed to where a woozy Brooklyn was emerging from the cubicle followed by Johnny, then Kai and lastly Tala.

Blaire's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a moment she forgot how much in awe she was of the tall redhead enough to say, "You didn't have to get your ear pierced Tala."

Before he could reply Misha butted in, "Yeah, you weren't supposed to get one. Now we don't have enough money to get them all tattoos."

"You were gonna get them tattoos?" said Blaire incredulously.

"Of course. Ear piercing will get them in trouble, but tattoos would get them in a shit load of trouble."

"How'd you figure that? Tattoos are really, really expensive, we didn't have that much money," asked Keira.

"Fake tattoos – duh!" said Misha rolling her eyes.

"They wouldn't get in trouble for that," Blaire commented.

"Well we'd know they're fake, but the guys wouldn't and neither would our parents. They might not be in trouble for very long, but it'd still be priceless to watch."

"Oh I reckon this is still gonna be priceless to watch. Let's get them home, and make sure you have your cameras ready in the morning," grinned Keira.

* * *

When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So, let's all get drunk and go to heaven! 

_Brian O'Rourke_

**

* * *

Review Responses **

**TK** – I miss you! I haven't been on this website in ages and it looks like you haven't either because there's no more purgatory. Sorry about the writer's block, if there's any way I can help just give me a shout, always here to help lol. I need more **Purgatory**!!! So update! For the love of chocolate ice-cream – update!

**Diet Soda** – you always make me laugh! You're so right; I think I will add that in somewhere, it'd be so funny! Good luck with the study mate, lol. Thanks for reviewing.

**Musee.Picasso** – Spot on mate! That was my original plan, although there is now some debate about Kai and Brooklyn. Can you guess who Blaire's paired with? That is your 'challenge' lol.

**Ayesha Raees **– here you go!!! Another chapter! I actually planned on the exact opposite however I can see where you're coming from. Hmm… now I'm not sure anymore lol. I think I'll have a vote because I'm torn both ways!

**The perfect oasis **– thanks so much for reviewing! It means the world to me! Here's the update!

**Desastrus** – Yay! Quotes make my day, I love them too. Hmm… yeah, I'm a bit weird. Glad you enjoyed! Thanks for reviewing!

**insanity-ward **– thanks for the tip. I'm ashamed to say I haven't read Harry Potter in ages and have forgotten… a lot! In fact I need to brush up on it before the next movie/book comes out so I better start reading!

**Aversmereth **– I'm glad you like the quotes; they're usually related loosely to something in the chapter. You're way too nice to me, lol, it's not that good, blushes

**Saphire-gal** – Thankies for the review! It's so encouraging when you get one! We all have our mental deficiencies – that's what makes us special lol. Here's the update.

**viettvnt** – I love high school fics as well. They're just good to read aren't they? lol. Thanks for reviewing!

**WalkingDeathWish** – Yeah! I love 'em as well! Glad you think Brookie's awesome, wasn't sure if he was being too much of an ass. Anyway turn on, tune in and drop out.

**destructivpixie** – Thanks for the review! I love Keira too! But then again I am writing the story so my opinion could be biased.

**

* * *

A/N: IMPORTANT!!! PLEASE READ THIS!!! (Although only if you care about who ends up with who) **

A really good suggestion from one of the reviews has completely thrown me and now I need help deciding the pairings.

**Misha x Kai** and **Brooklyn x Keira **(my original pairings)

…or…

**Misha x Brooklyn** and **Keira x Kai **(suggested pairings)

I can be terribly indecisive at times, so please be kind and give me a hand. For me this is like being asked to decide between chocolate ice-cream and chocolate cake, however unfortunately in this situation I can't have both. I'm actually leaning towards the suggested pairings at the moment, but I've got all these ideas either way so I'm finding this really hard. Please give me a shove in the right direction.

Cheers folks!

The anonymous elephant


	4. Diamond Flavoured Slippers

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but the stuff that is my own.

**A/N: **Hehe… who knew you could get writer's block only three chapters in with a story that has no plot whatsoever? I mean technically as I have no particular ending I'm aiming for I could write anything and it would be fine. Alas, due to my lack of inspiration my initial attempts sounded shite, so I've just done a bit of a time jump to avoid the problems I was having.

Also, the people have spoken and the pairings have been decided. Many thanks for the help guys.

* * *

S µ м m ε ® Ŕ α ϊ η

* * *

A sunbeam to warm you, 

A moonbeam to charm you,

A sheltering angel,

So nothing can harm you.

_Irish Blessing_

* * *

Keira sighed, trying to ignore the chaos around her that was the Kingston family having breakfast on a Saturday. She poured herself her customary glass of orange juice and grabbed a warm piece of buttered toast. Leaning back on her chair she watched the squabbles over who got the last Cocoa Pops, the discontented faces of those who had to make do with wholemeal bread because _someone_ had taken the last piece of white toast, and the general chaos that having two separate cartons of milk - one full cream and one skinny - could make. 

As she chewed she mentally ran over the past three weeks. She had by this point in time settled into the monotony of the school routine, and also had bunch of slightly deranged people to hang with which helped pass the time. She was also starting to get comfortable amongst the various members of her host family, the exception being Brooklyn. The second eldest had had it in for her since day one, but the stunt with the ear-piercing had _probably_ made things worse. Grounded for two months and an allowance cut from 20 bucks a week to 10. Ouch. Definitely not a good way to make friends.

She was in an awkward position with Brooklyn. He wasn't being openly rude or angry about what had happened, and although she could guess at what he thought of her, he never confirmed her theories. At the moment he was merely ignoring her and it was getting kinda annoying considering they shared just about everything from rides to school, to classes and even a bathroom.

A sudden flurry of movement interrupted her thoughts as Charles and Monique extracted themselves from the large wooden table. After a quick round of hugs and kisses from Monique (which Keira was not excluded from) and a hearty-verging-on-painful pat on the back from Charles (which everyone but Keira managed to be avoid) the two hurried out the door and off to work.

Extra work on Saturdays was not an uncommon thing for the two parents. Although Monique and Charles brought in a large income together, five kids ate a lot of food and a bit of extra cash was always welcome. Unfortunately this meant they had less time for family activities, and that was why sitting down and eating together had become so important.

Things seemed to settle down for moment and the sound of the cars reversing out of the drive carried faintly through the kitchen. Once the noise had faded and the parents had driven off Darien got up leisurely stating that he had a date to get ready for. After that silence reigned for a few more minutes as everyone ate their breakfast and Keira tried to enjoy a moment's peace.

"We're done," chorused the twins, pushing their bowls away in unison and looking expectantly at Brooklyn who was reading the paper. Keira noted curiously that he was skimming through the travel section.

Their older brother glanced up at them for a moment and said, "Fine, put your bowls in the sink and you can go."

Keira watched as Davy and Bobby hopped off their chairs and dumped their plates before running down the stairs into the basement. She slowly sipped her orange juice and nearly choked when Rosa started crying loudly for no apparent reason. In seconds Brooklyn was kneeling down by her chair, newspaper abandoned on the table.

"Rosa, what's wrong?"

The words slipped from his mouth in such a caring manner that Keira nearly choked on her juice again. This was unusual. She watched in quiet amazement as he put an arm around the little girl and said, "Tell me what's wrong. Tell Brookie what's the matter."

Gradually Rosa's sobs faded to sniffles, then from sniffles to hiccups. Swallowing deeply she announced, "I can't go to Mathilda's today."

"Why not?"

"Because Mummy said she'd drive me, but she's gone to work."

"Well Darien can drive you instead."

"B… but he's… he's going on a date with… wi…" and she broke into tears again.

Quickly Brooklyn shushed her and amended his words, "Well I'll take you then. Darien can use Bethany's car."

"But you're grounded."

"I think we can make an exception."

"R… really?" hiccuped the little girl.

"Really," confirmed Brooklyn, nodding his head solemnly.

Like flipping a light switch the tears were gone and Rosa was beaming up at him, cheeks dimpled and glowing.

"Thanks Brookie!" she cooed, and flung her arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever… just let me clean up here first. Go get ready and I'll drive you over."

The small child clambered down from her chair and padded out of the kitchen.

Brooklyn stood up rubbing his forehead, but a slight smile played on his face. He ran a hand through his messy hair and started to put away all the things on the table. Keira watched him pensively. It wouldn't be the first time she had misread someone. She finished the last of her drink and stood up to start stacking the dishwasher.

"I'll do it," said Brooklyn gruffly, standing next to her but not looking at her. He was obviously continuing his I'm-pissed-off-at-you-but-I'm-going-to-be-mature-about-it act.

"I got it," she replied, irritated that he wouldn't look her in the eye.

"You're our guest," persisted the male teen, snatching the bowl from her.

She grabbed his wrist and stared angrily at him, her volatile temper getting the better of her.

"No I'm not. I am renting a room which puts me on the same level as anyone else in household. That being said I am going to do my fair share of the housework," she practically yelled.

He still wouldn't look at her, just pulled his hand roughly out of her grip so he could shove it in his pocket and stare moodily at the ground. Keira wanted to scream with frustration. What a child! But then he muttered something that made her take a step back.

"I never asked for you to come. There were enough people in this house before you turned up."

The sudden change of topic and bitterness of Brooklyn's voice surprised her, so much so that she was silenced for moment. She thought he was only mad about the events of the first few days. Apparently not. This was totally different, and she couldn't really argue with it. He was right. He had never asked for her to come here and there probably were enough people in this house, however large, before she came. She was intruding on their family. However any sympathy she might have felt was diminished in light of the fact that he was just behaving like a brat, sulking rather than doing something about the situation. Beside it was not like he had any right to blame her for it all, she had had no control over the situation, and that just made her mad.

"What was I supposed to do, Brooklyn?" she spat out his name angrily, "I had no choice in the matter either. You think I came here willingly? You think too highly of yourself if you believe I would actually _want _to live with you."

Blue eyes flashed angrily and he spat back just as venomously, "At least I have a place to live. What do you have? You have no home, you don't belong anywhere, I bet you don't even know where you were born! You're a bloody gypsy."

Although not everything he said was entirely correct, there was enough truth to it that it stung deeply. Who the hell did he think he was? He knew nothing about her, about her life. So she did the only thing she knew how to do in a situation like this, she attacked.

"You're just a spoilt, rich kid who's worried that now I'm here mummy and daddy won't have enough time to pamper you and adore you," she retorted viciously.

Brooklyn gave her a strange, dark look, his bangs hanging in his sapphire eyes and partially shadowing his face. He opened his mouth to say something when Rosa bounded down the stairs and skidded to a halt in the middle of them.

"Gotta go Brookie! Gotta go or else we'll be late," she chirped happily, completely oblivious to the tension lying heavily in the room.

"Go wait in the car," said Brooklyn in a quiet, strained voice. Rosa nodded and ambled off. Keira and Brooklyn faced off for a few seconds longer before he finally turned away. Brooklyn hunched his shoulders and said in an unreadable tone, "Look, whatever. I'm gonna take Rosa to her friend's."

Keira stood silent and watched him walk over to the door. As he was grabbing his coat of the rack he turned and faced her. In those short seconds he appeared to have recovered from their little spat and had his usual chauvinistic smirk on his face. He casually raised an eyebrow and drawled, "And since it bothers you so much feel free to finish cleaning up."

Keira felt her hackles rising at his tone, but he was out the front door before she could respond. She threw the dishcloth down on the ground, damning all guys and their egoistic attitudes. She tried to make peace and he threw her offering back in her face.

Pulling her leather gloves out of the back pocket of her jeans she slipped them on and then drummed her fingers on the bench top, her brow furrowed. If his feelings towards her hadn't been clear before, they were now.

Suddenly her eyes settled upon an old photo album, an idea started forming in her head and she smiled roguishly. If nothing else at least one thing had been cleared up in their little chat.

This was war.

* * *

"Mum, please can you shorten my grounding. One more weekend stuck in this house with the bitch-from-hell and I'm gonna die," moaned Johnny to his mother from his languid position on the expensive, imported couch. 

"Johnny, get your feet off that Italian leather or I will cut them off," responded his mother, "And don't swear," she added as an afterthought as she finished polishing the silver candlesticks.

Disgruntled, Johnny swung his feet onto the ground just as Misha ambled into the room commenting, "Don't worry Johnny, she'd never do that. The blood would never come out of the carpet."

Johnny shot his sister a glare from beneath his messy hair and discreetly gave her the finger. Misha made a face then said in a sugar-coated voice, "Mummy, can I borrow Johnny for a second?"

There mother turned around to glance at them for a second, surprised by the question. Raising an eyebrow she shrugged and returned to dusting her collection of crystal ornaments.

"I don't see why not, he's not being of any use to me."

Johnny rolled his eyes and whined, "But Mum…"

"Johnny just go with your sister," responded their mother while Misha mouthed at him, "Garage roof."

Glaring at the bane of his life, Johnny hauled himself of the couch and slunk after his sibling. Once they were a safe distance from the living room Johnny swung her round by the shoulder and growled menacingly, "I thought the garage roof account was squared. You can't hold that over me again."

Misha rolled her eyes and said, "The only way you'll ever stop me from holding that over you is by getting rid of the damn stuff. Or finding something equally incriminating that I've done; although that will never happen because I'm not an idiot."

"You're an evil little thing, you know that?" he said wearily.

Misha just smiled and replied, "I do try."

Johnny couldn't help but smirk. She was a bitch, but he did love his sister in a perverse kind of way. Sighing he said, "Alright, what do you want."

That wicked smile lit up her face again and she said, "I've just had a call from Keira and I need your help…"

* * *

"Are you sure you don't mind me coming over like this?" asked Nessa restlessly. 

Misha waved the question off and said, "I could do with the help anyway. You know I reckon the latest addition to our little group could have an evil-genius streak brilliant enough to rival my own."

Nessa blanched and laughed nervously. "That's actually kind of disturbing."

"Hey Ness," greeted Johnny as he entered Misha's room. He was dressed casually in trackies and hoodie. The blonde smiled at him then returned her attention to Misha who was typing away furiously at the keyboard on her desk.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Nessa suddenly, "Where did you get that! It's so damn cute."

The Scottish girl grinned and said, "Just a little something Keira sent me."

"What is it?" asked Johnny gruffly, trying to see the monitor. Misha quickly closed the window and shook her head.

"Nuh uh, all I need from you is your credit card."

Sighing Johnny placed the shiny plastic card on the desk and slid it over to Misha. However when his sibling tried to pick it up he kept his fingers firmly on it.

"Johnny! Give it to me."

He reluctantly relinquished the object and scowled at her warning, "You better be careful with it. It's my money and I don't want someone scamming it all."

"Oh stop complaining, I said I'll reimburse you."

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" he snapped back.

"Johnny McGregor, I may make dirty deals, but have I ever once been dishonourable when it came to fulfilling them?" rebutted his little sister in a hurt tone. This shut Johnny up because as much as he hated to admit it she did have a point. Her methods may have been a bit dodgy, but she was always principled when it came to the actual interactions.

Nessa watched the transaction curiously and then asked, "Why are you using Johnny's card?"

Misha started typing again and said, "I don't have one."

"I could go get my credit card you know," offered the blonde already halfway to the door.

Misha grinned and said, "Oh that's alright, Johnny doesn't mind. I asked _real_ nice."

"Asked?" growled Johnny angrily, "Blackmailed is more like it!"

Misha rolled her eyes and said, "Pft, they're practically synonymous. Dunno why you're getting flustered over the details of the situation."

"You're my effing sister! You're not supposed to blackmail me!"

"Eh, life's tough. Have a cookie and shut up," replied Misha calmly.

"Yeah, shut up Johnny!" repeated Nessa playfully, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his neck so she could rest her head on his shoulder and watch what Misha was doing.

Johnny did shut up but only because he was painfully aware of the girl leaning on him. He could feel her chest pressed against his back and her soft hair was gently brushing his face. She smelt kinda like flowers but not, like something you'd want to bury your head in and hold real close. He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye and realised she was completely focused on the screen in front of them.

He mentally steadied himself and concentrated on breathing normally. He was intensely aware of her presence and her warmth. How could she be impervious? Oh yeah, the fact that they had known each other for years and she probably thought of him more as a surrogate brother than a teenage guy might have something to do with it. She was so used to his presence that she acted like he was a worn, comfortable slipper; always around and nice to slip on when your feet get cold.

Irritated with himself for being so affected by her when she obviously wasn't, he felt the sudden urge to leave and just get away from her. He abruptly asked, "Are you done with my card yet?"

Misha nodded and slid his card over to him without once taking her eyes of the screen. Johnny grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket then extracted himself tersely from Nessa hold and left the room.

Nessa watched him leave with a frown. What had gotten into him?

* * *

Kai gazed at the shimmering waters of Bakuten Lake. It was an unseasonably warm day and he had opted to spend it outside rather than in the empty hallways of his grandfather's mansion. The teen leaned back deeper into the grassy hillside and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun. 

Only four more weeks of freedom and then his grandfather was back.

Unlike most other kids his age he did not split his year up into school and holidays, he split it into times when his grandfather was here and times when his grandfather was away. He had never seen school as a bad thing, more of an occasionally interesting and rarely challenging way to pass the days and keep out of Voltaire's way.

His back was practically healed, just sometimes the scars felt tight and itchy. Although he was not proud or ashamed of the marks, he saw each one as a symbol of strength and defiance, a protest and a promise. Every day, every hour, every minute he was getting closer to his goal.

Suddenly he felt something bang into his side. There was a surprised cry and a girl fell down over him, her butt landing on his stomach and winding him. He was surprised to see it was Keira from his French class. She had obviously been walking backwards and hadn't seen him as she was staring at him in shock. She seemed to recover pretty quickly though and the first words out of her mouth were, "What the hell? Why are you hiding in the fucking grass? Are you just sitting there waiting to trip people up?!"

"What do you expect if you walk around backwards?" he growled back, all the time glaring at her because she was still sitting on him. Keira flinched slightly but returned the glare, deliberately getting up as slowly as possible. She made a show of brushing herself down and said, "I was not walking around backwards, I was taking a photo and… shit! Where's my camera?"

The brunette looked frantically in the long grass until Kai casually held out the sleek, silver Sony. She snatched it from him and started pressing buttons and fiddling with it, checking that it was not broken. When she was satisfied she turned around and held it up to her eye, taking a shot of the far side of the lake. Then she switched it off and slipped it into her bag. She was about to walk off without another word to Kai when hesaid, "You dropped these as well."

Keira glanced at him; he was now standing and holding something out in his hand. It was a rectangular, yellow package filled with photos; it must have fallen out of her bag. She tried to grab it from him but in an uncharacteristically childish move Kai whipped the envelope out of reach and flipped it open. Much to her annoyance he pulled out the photos and started thumbing through them, just to get her back for sitting on him and not apologising.

"Kai, give them here," she growled, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously.

However he ignored her, for what had started out as a quick flick through just to infuriate her had quickly slowed down considerably. Now he was looking through them with more care, quite impressed with the quality and creativity behind some of the shots. Although he didn't go round telling everyone he actually had quite an eye for art.

"These aren't half bad," he said, gazing at a picture of the fountain in Central.

Keira felt her face heating up; she always got embarrassed when people saw her work. It wasn't like she took photos for everyone to see, they were more of keepsakes, reminders of all the places she had been. She had been to a lot of beautiful places and a lot of ugly ones, but wherever she went she liked to find the things that made that particular spot unique and catch it on film. She felt silly trying to explain that to people so she preferred to just keep it to herself.

"Give them back or I'll kick your ass," she snarled with a mixture of anger and discomfort.

The tall teen gave her an amused look and said, "I'd like to see you try."

Keira raised an eyebrow indignantly and snapped, "Well unless I'm mistaken I already have once. I'm sure I can manage it again."

This got Kai's attention and he shot her a confused look.

Keira was pissed. Was he just going to pretend that he hadn't tried to feel her up at the party and then she had totally whipped him? When he just continued to gaze at her with slight confusion she said, "The party? You were being a total ass. I kicked your butt. Your friend Tala had to save you. Still drawing a blank?"

Kai looked away, his face closed. Keira laughed in disbelief, "You really don't remember anything do you? And here was me thinking you were just being a prick and not apologising because you didn't want everyone to know you'd been beaten by a girl."

"I was drunk," muttered Kai coldly.

"Ya think?" mocked the brunette, quickly grabbing her photos from him while he wasn't concentrating and tucking them safely in her bag. Having retrieved her things she turned to leave but a voice stopped her again.

"I'm not usually like that," said Kai in a quiet, strained tone.

Keira examined his face and said, "So your friend told me," but when Kai didn't say anything she added, "And I assume that's as good as I'm gonna get so apology accepted."

Kai maintained his silence and then after a few seconds started to wander off down the hill. Keira watched him go then turned and left in the opposite direction.

* * *

He sped down the dark, city streets like a wolf on the hunt. The adrenaline had the blood pumping in his ears; the danger had his body tensed and alert. He was completely in the zone; mentally blocking out the sound of the rowdy spectators until it was just him and the familiar roar of his bike. He leaned closer into his vehicle and his sharp eyesight picked out and identified the shadowy shapes looming out of the dark road. Swerving around the racer in front it registered somewhere in his subconscious that he was now in first place. 

He was on the home run now, his goal was in sight and with a daring that was feared by some and respected by many he slammed down on the accelerator even harder until the world around him was just a blur.

The finish was in sight. 10 more seconds.

He hit the brakes with unbelievable precision and skidded to a halt just inches from the judge.

Tala Ivanov was a legend on the streets due to his skill and speed, and there was a reason for it.

He removed his helmet and the sounds of the world suddenly came filtering back in.

The crowd was going wild. People were cheering, dancing, collecting bets, getting drunk or high or doing anything else that would momentarily help them evade reality. The judge was saying something but the young man tuned it out, watching as the last of the racers passed the finish line.

Finally he was offered a black duffel bag. He opened the top and glanced inside, then satisfied with its contents he slung it over his shoulder and returned to his bike.

Before he could put on his helmet a female voice interjected, "Nice race Ivanov, but crowd wants something more than that. It's a stage and you gotta preform. They don't want some stone cold bastard who says nothing and does even less."

"Shut it Danielle. We've been through this. I won the race, got the money and that's all I need."

The pretty brunette sauntered closer and ran a finger down the length of his bike, and looked at him curiously from under dark lashes.

"You're good Tala, but with that attitude you'll never be great. Is this really just for the money? Are you sure you don't want the fame that would come if you ever made it out of this hellhole and onto the real race tracks? Because you could be famous, of that much I'm sure."

Tala pushed her away from his bike so he could get on. She stood a few paces back, her hand on her hip. It registered in the back of his mind that she had a great body and she looked really sexy in leather. The Halle Berry look.

"How about a little bet Ivanov? I'll race you to your place and if you win I'll do a little something special for you, but if I win you have to take my advice."

Tala watched as the girl got on her bike, then said impassively, "You'll never win."

Danielle revved her engine and gave him a wicked smile.

"I know."

* * *

They were fighting again. She could tell by the tone, the carefully preserved calm, low tone. It was their pathetic attempted to keep it from her. 

Blaire snorted and brusquely unzipped her schoolbag, searching through it until she found her maths stuff. Grabbing her calculator from her desk she spread her things out on the bed and sprawled comfortably over the mattress. She flipped through her textbook until she found the chapter she was up to and then opened her exercise book to a fresh page. She was in the middle of ruling a straight red line down the side of the page when someone downstairs suddenly turned up the volume on the TV, her hand slipped in surprise and she grimaced when she saw the perfect margin had been ruined.

Sighing she pulled herself off the bed and strode over to her open door. She paused momentarily, listening to the voices floating up the staircase into her room. The conversation was an odd mix of some crappy re-make of a seventies film and the strained words from her parents. She didn't bother trying to understand what they were saying, she couldn't really care less. She just tried to ward off the impending depression that always managed to find its way into her whenever her parents fought.

The volume on the TV was turned up another few notches as her parent's conversation started to get louder. Feeling tears of helplessness gathering she quietly shut her door, slightly relieved that it muted the noise from downstairs.

She stared at her face in the full length mirror on her door. The whites of her eyes had gone an awful red colour with the effort of restraining her tears, and it made her irises look a vivid emerald. Roughly dashing away any moisture with her hand she sniffed and inspected the rest of her appearance.

She was definitely no high school beauty. Her straight, orange hair with its black streaks reached just below her shoulders and flicked out at the end. Her nose was small and slightly pointed and had a pair of black, rectangular glasses perched on top. A few freckles were dusted over her pale skin. She never tanned, instead she freckled. She couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips, and was surprised at how callous it sounded. Sighing once again, she pulled her dressing gown tighter and shuffled back to bed.

Flopping down she picked up a pencil and began to work through the complicated equations. Numbers found their way from her brain to her pencil to the page. Soon the white sheet was filled with neat columns of grey numbers, and still she kept working, loving the way they worked out so neatly. The equations always looked difficult to start, but with a little thought she always managed to figure them out.

Numbers were like that; so reliable, so comprehendible. She understood maths. She had never understood people. They were too unpredictable, capable of doing wild, unreasonable things. They could too easily hurt you, without even meaning to. That was why she stuck to her notes and calculator.

Maybe that was her problem though. She had met up with Miguel a few times since the party and she had really enjoyed spending time with him. He was great to talk to and always had fascinating stories to tell, plus he always listened to what she had to say. However whenever he tried to get closer, put his arm around her or even hold her hand, she felt herself stiffen up defensively. She couldn't stop the reaction, it just happened, she was wary of letting someone get too close to her. Miguel was sweet and patient and never said anything, but she couldn't help but wonder if he'd eventually give up on her. He was a teenage guy after all, and Blaire got the feeling that he didn't just have friendship in mind.

Suddenly thunder boomed through the air, so loud and close that it actually made the window frame tremble. The window was set into the roof and was more like a skylight and through it she could see the grey clouds that had amassed in the sky. A brief show of lightening and then the rain came pelting down. Hard and fast. Blaire pushed away her thoughts of Miguel and smiled contentedly. When she was young had always hated storms because they had meant she couldn't play outside, her most favourite thing in the world. Now she no longer spent much time outside anyway because... because she just didn't seem to have the energy these days. Now she loved storms because they drowned out the sounds from below, and for a while she could loose herself in the powerful, exhilarating feeling that came only in the midst of Mother Nature.

Pushing her school stuff of her bed, not caring how it landed, she curled up on top of her bedspread with her head resting on a pillow so she could see out her window to the dark skies and rain outside. Reaching a hand out, she switched of her lamp and then snuggled closer in on herself. Sleepily she let her leaden eyelids droop shut and listened to the steady thrum of the rain on the roof. The passing of time was only marked by the occasional crash of thunder, and otherwise she remained silent and still, simply listening, unsure of how long it took for her to finally drift off.

* * *

For after all, the best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain. 

_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

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**TK** – You're writing again! That makes me so happy! Unfortunately I don't know a thing about Naruto because I've never seen it so it kinda doesn't interest me lol. But I'm still happy because I think the important thing is that you keep writing! You never know, maybe one day the inspiration for Purgatory will just return. Sometimes it works like that. Anyway, hope the plot bunnies start multiplying exponentially as bunnies are prone to do!

**PRETTY AS A CAR CRASH** – hehe… I'm proud of my half-decent grammar (so you should probably stop feeding my ego lol) and I do aim to write comprehendible sentences! Thnaks for the review!

**s p r i n k l'f i s h** – updating… often? Interesting idea that one… lol, I'm terrible when it comes to posting stuff regularly as you've probably picked up, but thanks for the encouragement despite my dreadful habits!

**walkingdeathwish** – I love Tala too! I hope you liked the little passage on him at the end!

**black-lightning82** – soon is a relative term… so yeah, it took forever but here it is. I hope you liked and thanks so much for taking the time to review!

**Ayesha Raees** – lol, you make me blush! You say so many nice things and I feel unworthy… I'm sorry this took so long, but I kinda had issues with where to go from chapter 3 so yeah… I got there eventually!

**Musee.Picasso** – so much for my attempt at subtlety lol. Everyone seems to be cluing in on the fact that I wanna do a TalaxBlairexMiguel triangle. Thanks for the awesome review and actually saying stuff that means something, if you know what I mean… okay, that was a retarded sentence, but thanks anyway!

**desustrus** – hehe… you're on to me with Blaire. I thought some triangley goodness would be fun!

**ravenfromhell17007** – hmm… you do have a point. I hope you enjoyed their little spat at the beginning of the chapter.

**insanity-ward** – I have officially decided your vote should count for more than one because you took the time to explain, thank you! You have swayed me with your wonderful if slightly insane logic (the best kind of logic if you ask me)

**vanija** – ye update be here!

**darkxXxflames** – so glad you liked!

**Diet Soda** – you make me laugh so hard! I love your reviews! Challenge accepted and already progress has begun! Not sure yet which chapter it will appear in but I'm aiming for very soon, lol.

**catsy** – toodles for taking the time to help me decide!

**the perfect oasis **– I'm glad you think its worthwhile. I know what you mean and totally agree. Some people on this site really need to revise their grammar. Not saying I'm perfect, but there's a point where it can become unreadable.

**bobbertthebobette** – Your review totally made my day! Made me laugh as well! So yeah, he's not a Russian prostitute, but I reckon hardcore street racer is pretty sweet. Tala… mmm… hotness… lol.


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